


Brides Watch Over Thee

by oyhumbug



Category: General Hospital
Genre: F/M, Holidays, Humor, Romance, alternative history
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-12
Updated: 2008-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-19 06:13:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 31,269
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1458922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oyhumbug/pseuds/oyhumbug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The holiday season has a funny way of catching up to Jason, Elizabeth, Cameron, and Jake when the Scorpio-Drakes take the on and off again couple's relationship into their own hands. Will they be able to pull off the biggest coup Port Charles has seen yet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Previously posted on fanfiction.net, LJ (oy_humbug2), my own site (Delicious Infatuation), and Liason message boards.

**Brides Watch Over Thee**

**Chapter One  
** **CFFC#1: On the first day of Christmas, my true love sent to me: A partridge in a pear tree.  
~** _**The Twelve Days of Christmas** _

She was being pushy. And stubborn. And demanding, she knew that, but it was her _special_ day, and everyone knew that a bride received anything and everything she wanted on her wedding day, even if that something was for the chance to play matchmaker.  
  
However, the task before her would be no easy feat.   
  
Knocking briskly on her friend’s bright, welcoming front door, Robin Scorpio, soon to be Robin Scorpio-Drake, waited for the young, single mother of two to greet her. Being honest with herself, the doctor had no idea what to expect.  
  
No one had seen Elizabeth for weeks prior to the evening before when she had shown up at the General Hospital Christmas party, her boys in tow. After her youngest son had been returned to her, the nurse had hidden away in her home, refusing to rejoin the real world, her fear of the unknown and the dangerous making her a prisoner in her own life. And the time away from her job, from her friends and coworkers, and from the pressures of everyday living had not been kind to Elizabeth, that much had been clear and apparent the night before.  
  
The young mother looked completely broken, both inside and out. Her normally bright and shiny hair had hung limp in her face, shrouding her countenance from all to properly see. It was as though the pretty brunette was hiding behind her own form, and it had saddened Robin beyond words. There, she herself was, perfectly happy and content, a new mother who was just hours away from marrying the man of her dreams, while one of her best friends seemed to be disappearing before her very eyes.  
  
And then there were Elizabeth’s clothes, too. Loose and baggy, they swallowed her petite form whole. The extra material that hung from her arms was even used to cover her hands, as if the nurse couldn’t even bear the sight of her own unblemished skin. She never smiled, she seemed to walk through the motions of feigning excitement and joy for her children as they celebrated the holiday season, totally oblivious to the pain their mother was drenched in, but, without a doubt, the most frightening aspect of Elizabeth the evening prior had been her eyes.  
  
Always expressive, always a beacon to her inner most thoughts, wishes, and desires, the former artist’s orbs of deep, enchanting sapphire blue were muted. Silenced. Dead. Robin, luckily, had only managed to see eyes that broken once before in her life, and she knew, no matter how long she lived or what kind of horrors she might eventually have see in her days, she would never forget the bleeding pain and emptiness Jason’s gaze had held the day she had gone to AJ to tell him the truth about Michael’s paternity.  
  
Yes, her former lover and current friend had recovered from the loss of his son, but it had taken Jason years to do so, and she didn’t even want to contemplate how much strife he had gone through in order to return to a semi-healthy existence. No matter what, she did not want to see Elizabeth go through the same thing, so that’s why she was here, banging on her coworker’s front door, asking for, no, begging and demanding for entrance.  
  
And the wooden structure swung back, just as she knew it eventually would, emitting warmth which surrounded her chilled form and showcasing mother and son in an obviously intimate, parental moment. Elizabeth appeared harried and Jake perfectly content, both his bib and his face smeared with baby food.   
  
The young nurse smiled, the gesture false and doing absolutely nothing to lighten the dark cloud which had settled over her delicate features weeks prior, before standing aside in a silent gesture of welcome. “Robin,” she greeted her. “I wasn’t… um… expecting…”  
  
The pleasant politeness disappeared, and the new mother realized her friend simply didn’t have the energy to pretend any more. “What are you doing here?”  
  
“Patrick and I are getting married today.”  
  
Elizabeth moved away from her, shutting the front door before returning to her chair at the dining room table where she had been feeding her youngest son. Without glancing up or managing to show an interest in what she was so routinely doing, the onetime artist returned to her former task, pushing spoonful after spoonful of carrots into her son’s patient and always eagerly awaiting mouth. “I know.”  
  
Never before had Robin ever felt so awkward around Elizabeth; never before had she ever felt so unwelcome by her friend. But she pushed those thoughts and feelings aside, sympathizing with the young mother as soon as she recalled what her coworker had recently just been through. Why, if it had been Emma who had been kidnapped… Or if she had finally pushed Patrick away for the final and unwavering time… Well, Robin wasn’t even sure she’d be operating as well as the nurse was managing to do.  
  
Ignoring the sudden wave of insecurity that washed over her, she took a seat at the table on the other side of Jake and approached the situation like anything else she did in her life: with a one track mind that refused to back down or be denied. “We, Patrick, Emma, and I, would like you to be there.”  
  
“I can’t.”  
  
Immediately, she argued, “why not?”  
  
“The boys…”  
  
“The boys are more than welcome to come as well,” Robin interrupted before her friend could even finish her protest. “Cam has already managed to twist both Patrick and Matt around his little finger, and this adorable guy, here,” she smiled and leaned down to peer more closely at Jake, smiling at him when his ice blue eyes twinkled back to her in response. The sight left her speechless. “He’s… uh…”  
  
Silently, she finished the thought to herself. _He’s Jason’s son_.  
  
Why had she never noticed before? How many times had she stared into the little boy’s father’s matching gaze over the years? How many nights did she wake up with those same exact eyes haunting her memories and her dreams while living in Paris? And how many times had she seen Jason and Elizabeth together, the love and affection they felt for one another written plainly across both their countenances and their forms? But, still, she had been blind.   
  
She had faithfully taken the word of her friend at face value, never once considering what her own observation skills had told her. And she was a doctor, for crying out loud! It was her job to notice everything and always follow her instincts. It was no wonder that Jason had risked everything not just once but twice for the little boy sitting beside her, and it was no wonder why Elizabeth’s decision to stay away from the man she loved was so quickly killing her spirit. Not only was she denying herself the very thing she wanted most, but she was also denying her little boy and the man she loved the chance to know one another.   
  
“He’s fussy,” Elizabeth supplied for her, finishing the new mother’s previously open ended statement after a few seconds of tension filled quiet. Tilting her head in question, Robin observed the little boy before her. He looked perfectly calm, perfectly at ease, and perfectly like his father. “He needs to take a nap, and I don’t have time to not only get myself ready but also the boys. Speaking of getting ready,” her friend tried to infuse her lifeless voice with even a sliver of enthusiasm. “Why aren’t you right about now?”  
  
“Are you kidding me?” The laugh that the young doctor forced between her lips sounded contrived to the both of them. “With Drill Sergeant Maxie shrieking orders at me and the fact that I’ve done all of this once already, we have the process down to a science. It’ll take me thirty minutes to get ready, tops.”  
  
“Yeah, but what about Emma?”  
  
“My Mom kidnapped her this morning… along with Spinelli, which was odd, now that I think about it, and I haven’t seen the three of them since. I think they went shopping… or something.”  
  
“But your Dad’s in town,” Elizabeth tried to dissuade her once again. “I’m sure you want to spend as much time with him as possible.”  
  
“I do,” the soon-to-be married medical professional admitted, “but not until after I say my vows. He’s been driving me crazy all day, insisting that it’s not too late to back out of my decision to marry Patrick.”  
  
“Well, what about Mac. He might want to…”  
  
“Hey,” Robin interrupted her friend for the second time that afternoon. “Enough,” she ordered her, silencing the protest she could see building on the single mother’s full yet chapped lips. Covering Elizabeth’s free hand with her own, she pried the jar from the nurse’s grasp and then moved to take the spoon she was using to feed Jake as well. “I’m not going to take no for an answer.”  
  
“I have nothing to wear.”  
  
“Sure you do,” she argued. “Wear that green dress you had on for my first wedding. You looked beautiful in it, and, if I remember correctly, there was a certain blonde haired, blue eyed man who couldn’t take his eyes off of you in it.”  
  
Swallowing thickly, the former artist whispered, “that’s… that’s not an option anymore,” and Robin realized she had overplayed her hand.   
  
Deciding to back up, she simply agreed with her friend, “whatever you say. Now, go. Take a long, hot back, get dressed, put on some makeup, and fix your hair. I’ll take care of the boys.”  
  
“I appreciate the offer, I really do, but Jake hates getting dressed, especially in fancy clothes. He’d rather run around in his diaper all day if I let him, and Cameron’s just started this new phase where he likes to regress and pretend that he’s a baby like his little brother as well. That’s why he’s upstairs right now. He was sent to his room for a timeout, which means he’s probably playing with his toys, but I just didn’t have the heart to yell at him again. Not that he actually cares when I raise my voice. I think it bothers me more than it does him.” Realizing that she was rambling, the younger woman stopped abruptly, took a deep breath, and regrouped. “Are you sure you can handle them?”  
  
Solemnly, for it wasn’t often that she spoke of that particular time in her life, Robin answered, “I was Michael’s mother for almost a year, Elizabeth. I can take care of a baby boy… or two. In fact,” she admitted, scrunching up her face in thought. “When you really think about it, I was much better with Michael than I am with my own daughter, so maybe I have the little boy parenting gene.”  
  
“Well,” Elizabeth quipped, for the first time since she had opened the door to allow her friend in actually showing some genuine emotion. “You did manage to tame Patrick.”  
  
“That I did! Now shoo,” Robin ordered, even going so far as to wave her hands towards the stairs as if she were scaring away some persistent yet mangy birds in the park. “Trust me,” she added when the young mother of two still seemed hesitant. “After you’re done, you’re going to feel like a whole new woman.”  
  
She watched as a ghost of a smile, a melancholy glimmer of doubt caressed the corners of her coworker’s mouth. “You know, that sounds… really nice. If only it was that easy, to take a bath and simply emerge a different person.”  
  
As she watched the onetime painter walk away, she couldn’t respond. Wordlessly, the doctor turned back to the toddler beside her, catching his sad eyes as he watched his mother walk away. Despite his young age, it was apparent that Jake knew exactly how depressed and miserable his mom was, and, despite the situation, Robin found herself smiling, for Jason had always told her that babies sensed things in the adults around them.  
  
“I know, buddy,” she sighed, shaking her head in disbelief. “We have to fix this, don’t we?” The child smirked then, the very grin she knew she should have recognized as his father’s months and months ago. “In the meantime, though, you need to finish your lunch.”  
  
Sticking her pinkie into the half eaten jar of carrots, she removed her finger and swiped it clean in her mouth, grimacing at the taste of the canned vegetables. “That is absolutely…” Shivering in disgust, Robin mentally attempted to push the unwanted flavor away. “Horrible!” How do you eat this stuff, let alone appear to enjoy it? All I know is, I’m never going to make my daughter eat something this disgusting. Wait here, Jake,” she quietly instructed the little boy. “I’m going to go throw this away, burying it at the bottom of the trash so your mommy thinks you actually ate it, and I’m going to return with something we both can enjoy. How does that sound?”  
  
Jake laughed, gurgled, and then squealed for something called ‘ _ares_.’ Five minutes later, the engaged new mother returned with something called _pears_ , delighted that her search had been so _fruitful_.  
  
“You know, little buddy, when your Daddy’s… nephew, Michael, was a baby, he liked pears as well. Do you think that’s a coincidence? Yeah,” she added when Jake blew a raspberry with his lips, spraying her with slobber and baby food, “I didn’t think so either.  
  
“Maybe it’s a Quartermaine thing,” she suggested. “Biologically, both you and Michael are Quartermaines, but I’ve always been a supporter of the nurture side of the age-old nature versus nurture argument, so that makes me wonder if your Dad likes pears, too. I don’t ever remember seeing him eat one, but, then again, this is Jason Morgan we’re talking about here. If it doesn’t come in a Styrofoam box, he doesn’t eat it, and, if it doesn’t come in either a coffee mug or a bottle, he doesn’t drink it.  
  
“However, it’s been a long time since I could honestly say that I knew your Daddy well enough to make such a decision about him. Maybe,” she proposed wickedly, wiggling her eyebrows and making the toddler giggle. “We should ask your Mom. I bet she would know, because, if anyone could get Jason to eat a balanced diet with fruits and vegetables, it would be your Mommy.  
  
“Or,” she offered, drawing out that one word mischievously. “When I go to see him later, I could just put him to the test.”  
  
Jake beat his little fists enthusiastically against the top of his high chair, showcasing his support for her second idea. “Alright then, covert operation ‘Morgan Men’ it is. And don’t worry,” she added, winking at the little boy. “I’ll let you know what I find out later… at the wedding.”


	2. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two  
** **CFFC#2:**  
 **Dean:** Christmas is Jesus' birthday.  
 **Sam:** No, Jesus' birthday was probably in the fall. It was actually the Winter Solstice Festival that was co-opted by the church and renamed Christmas. But I mean the Yule log, the tree, even Santa's red suit, that's all remnants of Pagan worship.  
 **Dean:** How do you know that? You gonna tell me next...the Easter Bunny's Jewish?  
 _~A Very Supernatural Christmas, Supernatural_

Maxie was going to _kill_ her.  
  
Stuff her in a body bag, beg Spinelli to have Jason get rid of her body, steal all her clothes, move into her apartment - kill her.  
  
And the thought made Robin smile.  
  
After all, sacrificing her own safety was well worth the effort she was making towards helping true love along, and, if there were any two people in Port Charles who deserved happiness that holiday season, in her opinion, it would be Jason and Elizabeth. Everyone was doing everything within their power to make her wedding a dream come true, so it was the least that the doctor could do to spread that joy to her friends.  
  
The hospital had altered their schedule, having their annual Christmas party on the 23 rd of December so that those staff members closest to her and Patrick could have off Christmas Eve to attend her wedding. Epiphany, Kelly, and Lainey had all volunteered their services to Maxie, pledging their efforts to redecorate the church for her upcoming nuptials. Her Uncle Mac had taken the entire day off, despite the fact that Christmas Eve was one of the busiest days all year for crime. Matt had pledged a solemn promise to get her groom to the church on time, for, on the second go around, she wasn’t trusting Coleman with that particular duty. Instead, the best man was off entertaining her dad, keeping him occupied so that she was unoccupied and free to _get ready_.  
  
And there in lied the problem. She was supposed to have been at the church hours ago, and she knew her cousin was probably tearing down the city in her efforts to find her. But Robin had turned off her cell phone, and she had told no one of her plans to personally invite and, if necessary, coax, blackmail, or bribe Jason and Elizabeth both into attending her wedding ceremony, and, despite the fact that she hadn’t been lying when she had told her friend it would only take her thirty minutes to get ready, she knew that Maxie wanted to treat her to a day of pampering before she became Mrs. Patrick Drake.  
  
However, the new mother was positive that the younger woman would eventually forgive her. Now, it wouldn’t be because she saw the greater good in Robin’s plan. After all, for reasons the doctor didn’t want to contemplate on the day she was about to pledge her life to one man and one man only, the fashionista hated Elizabeth. And it wouldn’t be because she was desperate to see Spinelli’s best friend and mentor happy. Rather, Maxie would eventually accept her decision to skip out on her own pre-wedding festivities because, as long as this second wedding went off without a hitch, everyone would be able to focus on the beautiful decorations the younger woman had arranged for and not the bride who made a spectacle of herself when her water broke in the middle of the minister’s sermon.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Robin prepared herself for the task ahead of her. With Elizabeth and the boys well on their way to being ready and soon to be departing for the church, all she had to do was convince Jason to attend her nuptials as well. Pun intended, if everything went the medical professional’s way, it was going to be a piece of wedding cake. All she had to do was play upon Jason’s selflessness, and her one-time boyfriend would be putty in her petite hands.  
  
The elevator doors to the penthouse level opened up, and she stepped out of the lift, turning immediately to the left where she would find Jason’s apartment. The hallway, despite the time of day, was dim, and there was no guard on the door. It was obvious that the mob boss was not expecting and did not want any company.  
  
However, she was determined that he was going to make an exception for her.  
  
Knocking briskly on the wooden door, she waited, tapping her foot impatiently on the marble floor. It wasn’t as though she didn’t know that Jason was home, because he was. His bike had been in the parking garage, the doorman had informed her that Mr. Morgan was indeed at his residence, and, really, where else would a man without a family of his own and without many friends be on Christmas Eve?  
  
Except he didn’t answer the door. Rolling back her shoulders in what could only be described as a determined gesture, the new mother opened the entrance for herself, peeking in her brunette head only to see a darkened penthouse. The lights were turned off, there wasn’t a single holiday decoration in sight, and, in fact, if she didn’t know better, she would swear that the home she was walking into was a model one where nobody actually lived. And the place was silent, too, eerily so.  
  
Knowing that Jason must be upstairs, she made her way to the steps, crossing her fingers that, when she found her friend, she wouldn’t startle him too badly. After all, startling a mob boss was never a good thing.  
  
But the upstairs hallway was just as blackened out as the downstairs main room, and, if it hadn’t been for the repeated, dull slapping sound she heard coming from the spare bedroom, she would have given up, assuming that, despite his motorcycle being in its parking space and despite the doorman reassuring her of his presence, Jason actually wasn’t home.  
  
However, he was. Knocking again, this time on the bedroom door, she waited for permission to enter but none was given. Rolling her eyes, she pushed her way into the space. She had already managed to come this far, so she certainly wasn’t going to turn back now. Despite her determination, though, the sight that greeted her left Robin speechless.  
  
Jason Morgan, dressed in a perspiration soaked pair of sweats with a matching, cutoff sweatshirt, stood punching a bag repeatedly. Over and over, his actions appeared rote, but the desperate, heartbroken sounds emanating from his tightly clenched lips told her he was very conscious of his actions. In fact, it might have been he was too aware.  
  
Just looking at him, she could tell that everything hurt the mob boss – the fact that it was snowing outside despite the late afternoon sunshine, the fact that he was about to spend yet another holiday alone, and the fact that, even though his actions were causing his calloused and worn hands to bleed all over the spare bedroom carpet, there was no one in his life to notice, care, or fret over his injuries. He was completely empty with no one left to fight, to punish, but himself.  
  
Through his gritted teeth, Jason accused, “you shouldn’t be here,” and she knew that, despite not turning around to face her, her former boyfriend knew exactly who it was who had interrupted his self-hatred session.  
  
“Actually, I disagree,” the medical professional argued, slamming the door behind her and taking a full step into the shadowed room. “In fact, the more I see, the more I think I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”  
  
“You’re supposed to be getting married today.”  
  
“Oh,” she queried, subconsciously lifting her brow in challenge even though the man across from her wouldn’t see the gesture. “So, you are aware of what day it is?” The mob boss grunted in response. “Then why aren’t you at the church, Jason?”  
  
“I could ask you the same thing.”  
  
“Humor me,” Robin requested, knowing that, no matter how broken the blonde was, he would also do whatever he could for anybody in his life… even if that was answering a question he really didn’t want to answer.  
  
“Trust me,” Jason finally responded, punctuating his words with a vicious upper cut to the bag. “You and your family don’t want me there.”  
  
“Well, you might be right about my family, but today is my day, and, selfishly, I want you at my wedding. But not for the reasons you think,” the doctor continued before he could turn her down. “Would I want you there simply because you are someone who is important to me? Yes, of course, but I also realize that you hate weddings, that you’d be miserable in a suit and tie, and that the whole situation would make you more miserable than you are already, no small feat in and of itself, let me add.  
  
“No, putting that aside, I _need_ you at my wedding for security reasons.”  
  
As both the man and the bag stilled, she realized she had finally captured his undivided attention. Pivoting around on his sock covered feet, Jason faced her, his doubt and confusion written plainly for the whole world to see. “What?”  
  
Simply repeating herself, she said, “I need you at my wedding for security reasons.”  
  
“Yeah, I heard that already,” her former boyfriend admitted, pinching the bridge of his nose while shuffling his feet. Letting out a harsh breath, he pressed on. “Robin, having me at your wedding would actually be a breach of security. I wouldn’t help matters.”  
  
“I beg to differ.”  
  
“Besides,” he added as if she had not spoken, “your parents are WSB agents. I’m sure, between the two of them, they could handle anything that may come up.”  
  
“Well, that’s where you’re wrong. My Mom’s entirely too distracted by the fact that she’s now a grandmother and that her own little girl is getting married to really pay attention to what’s going on around her. Plus, there’s also my Dad.”  
  
“Exactly,” Jason agreed. “Your Dad can keep you and everyone else safe.”  
  
“Except he can’t, because he’s still recovering from his last round of chemo.”  
  
Swallowing thickly, the mob boss’ voice lost some of its harshness. “Is… is he okay? I had no idea that…”  
  
“Yeah,” she waved off his concerns. “Hardly anybody knew that he was sick. He didn’t want anyone to think him less than practically superhuman. Hell, he wasn’t even going to tell my Uncle Mac until we forced his hand. But he’s in remission, and that’s all that matters. Unfortunately, though, he’s still not back to Robert Scorpio standards.”  
  
The blonde nodded, seeing her point. “But what about your Uncle Mac, he’s…”  
  
“He’s the police commissioner of Port Charles, and, while I love my Uncle Mac more than life itself, I think we both know exactly how safe my wedding would be with my Uncle Mac working the security.” As Jason chuckled, apparently unable to help himself, Robin smirked. It was like feeding candy to a baby. “Plus, he’s walking me down the aisle, so he’s going to be distracted.”  
  
“I could send some of my men…”  
  
“Thanks, Jason, and it’s not as though I don’t trust your guys, because, if you trust them, then I know I could, too, but I don’t want to make this too obvious. You know how my parents and my Uncle are. They would see that as an insult to them, and the last thing I would ever want to do is hurt any of them. No one would question your presence there today, especially since you went to my first wedding.”  
  
“Alright,” he agreed, holding up his hands, palms out, as a sign of surrender. “I see your point, but what I don’t get is why you need security in the first place.”  
  
“Well, Spinelli’s there, and my Uncle’s convinced that he’s a beacon for violence.”  
  
Mumbling under his breath, Jason quipped, “yeah, if by violence he means self-inflicted either by weapon ineptitude or clumsiness.”  
  
But she pretended to not hear him. “Then there’s Maxie. She was recently beat up in the park by a bunch of Russians. If they come after her again…”  
  
Growling, the mob boss promised, “they won’t.”  
  
“Does that mean that you’ll help me, that you’ll come to my wedding?” Appearing as hopeful and innocent as she could, the new mother bounced on the balls of her feet, bobbing up and down as she clasped her hands before her in the commonly accepted gesture of begging. As soon as Jason gave the tip of his head to show his acceptance of her request, she squealed in excitement, immediately turning towards the door. “Alright, let’s get you ready.”  
  
“Robin, I don’t need your help to get dressed. Go,” he insisted, waving his hands in her direction. “Go to the church and get yourself ready. I won’t go back on my promise.”  
  
Suddenly solemn, she addressed her onetime lover. “I know that. However,” and she cleared her throat of any emotion, “that does not mean that I can leave yet. I still need your help with one other thing.”  
  
Groaning slightly as he hung his head in quiet yet stubborn compliance, the blonde asked, “what? What else do you need?”  
  
“I need you to… taste something for me.” With that, she practically skipped out of the room, quickly making her way down the hall towards where the guest bathroom was. Knowing Jason, he wouldn’t use the master bathroom, instead preferring the more simple amenities of the small lavatory. Plus, with just he and Spinelli living in the penthouse, if they shared one bathroom, that was less cleaning they – _he_ – would have to do. Pushing the door open, she spotted things she immediately recognized as her friend’s and knew that she had been correct.  
  
However, Jason was right on her heels, and he followed her into the space, stopping before the sink where she had stationed herself to help him wash out his wounded hands. Wordlessly, she worked, and she could feel his gaze upon her as he waited for her to acknowledge the questions that were, no doubt, swirling in his ice blue eyes, eyes identical to his son’s. Finally, the mob boss must have given up on her actually answering him without a query being posed, for he asked, “why do you need me to taste something for you?”  
  
“I would think that the more appropriate question would be what is it that I want you to taste?”  
  
“Robin…” He sighed wearily, his exhaustion with life – and her – apparent in that one word.  
  
“I hate pears, but Patrick loves them, and I saw these really good looking ones in the store today that were on sale, so I picked a bunch up, but, now, I’m worried that, because they’re out of season, they won’t be any good, and, if they’re not, why waste my time giving them to him and getting his hopes up in the first place only for him to have to turn around and throw all the fruit out, hurting my feelings, unnecessarily, in the process.”  
  
“You do realize that you just made absolutely no sense, right?”  
  
“Says you,” the doctor argued, grinning widely at her friend. “So, does that mean you’ll try one for me?”  
  
“Sure,” Jason shrugged, pulling his hands out of her grasp to dry them on a towel sitting on the sink’s basin. “Go downstairs, wait for me to get dressed, and then I’ll taste one of these pears for you.”  
  
“Oh, thank you,” Robin sang out, reaching to pull the mob boss into a light hug. “You have no idea how much this means to me.” Pausing in the doorway before she left, she added, “and make sure you put on some anti-bacterial gel on your hands before you bandage them up so they don’t get infected,” fully knowing that, despite not actually listening to her, Jason would expect her to say such a thing. After all, she was a physician.  
  
Fifteen minutes later, the blonde jogged down the stairs, showered, dressed, and presentable. Swiveling around in his desk chair, she held up a book that he was, evidently, currently reading, quirking her right brow in curiosity. “What’s this,” she asked teasingly. “You studying up on the Christmas holiday for any particular reason?”  
  
“I… uh…” Jason stumbled with his words, a rarity for him, before tugging on his ear and averting his gaze so she couldn’t see his eyes. “There’s someone… someone that I used to know who liked to hear about the interesting facts that I knew, and they’re, well, at least, they used to be a self-proclaimed Christmas freak.”  
  
“So, you were going to find out some things to tell her… before things changed?”  
  
“Yeah,” he admitted, already turning towards the door. “You ready to go? You should go. We need to go.”  
  
“We’re going,” Robin assured him, passing by his still form as she made her way back into the hall, pressing the pear she had been carrying in her coat pocket into his outstretched hand. “And I want your honest opinion on the fruit, Morgan. The fate of my marriage might very well rest upon your verdict.”


	3. Chapter Three

**Chapter Three  
CFFC#3: What do you call people who are afraid of Santa Claus? Claustrophobic.**

Spinelli was dragging.  
  
After so rudely being awakened at ten… _ten_ _in the lamentable morning_ , far earlier than his normal rising time, the computer hacker felt himself lacking. If, as the Jackal, he came with operating instructions, the very first marker would inform those using him that he needed, at least, ten hours of beauty sleep per night, and, if not provided with such, his skills would be sub-par. However, ever since The Fair Maximista had come blowing into his life, completely tossing it upside down and topsy-turvy, a lack of shuteye was just one of the many things he was adjusting to.  
  
And he did so willingly.  
  
So, when her beautiful, harmonious, if not slightly high pitched voice roused him from his slumber in his regrettably pink room that morning, he had smiled dopily, readily agreeing to anything and everything she requested of him while, lazily, rubbing the sleep out of his large, hazel eyes.  
  
The Fashionable Blonde One had informed him that he would be exercising his credit cards that blustery, winter morning, doing his fair share to elevate the rather flagging United States economy. So, with trusty laptop in hand, justly, in his opinion, assuming they would be perusing the goods one could procure online, for why else would his assistance be sought out so actively, he had proceeded to travel to la casa del comisionado de policia where he had been informed to ‘get his little butt there asap.’  
  
Spinelli had been tentative about such a mission, but, for The Fair Maximista, he would risk hide and hair and even the rather wise if not harsh disapproval of her lawful parental unit, so he had hopped on his scooter and skedaddled as he was advised to do. In fact, he had been in such a hurry to please the one who occupied his heart that he skipped breakfast, the most important meal of the day, believing just her presence alone would be capable of fortifying his ravenous form.  
  
Oh, how he had been wrong.  
  
So dismally, dreadfully, disappointingly wrong.  
  
For, upon arrival at the Scorpion household, the young nerd had not been greeted by his fairest of all friends but, instead, the mother of the bride and her less-than-agreeable granddaughter, who, apparently, had been just as disenchanted by her aunt’s lack of presence as he had been, or, at least, that was what Spinelli told himself as explanation of Emma’s unpleasant mood.  
  
The Just and Jujitsu Trained Agent had gushed about his willingness to accompany her on a _teeny-tiny_ shopping excursion before ruffling his already ruffled hair, depositing the wailing babe in his arms, and strutting out the front door, her high, stiletto heels picking out a cadence to their march to the car. There was nothing Spinelli could do but follower her after he ever so very gently laid his laptop to rest in the now empty bungalow.  
  
Their little, insignificant shopping excursion turned into an intense search for the _perfect_ wedding present for Robin and Patrick and for the _perfect_ dress for The Super Spy’s only and favorite granddaughter to wear to her parents’ impending nuptials. Store after store, the three of them traipsed, Emma pleasantly distracted from her former state of dissatisfaction by the lights and sounds that surrounded her and by the muddled hacker’s beanie hat which she had promptly shoved into her mouth and sucked on as soon as they had arrived at the mall. Counter after counter, the three of them stood while The Formidable Emissary chatted up and flirted with all the male sales clerks. And purchase after purchase, the bags were piled onto Spinelli’s already weighed down, less than well trained and toned arms.  
  
It had been a thoroughly exhausting experience, one he did not look to repeat any time soon.  
  
Upon arrival at the church, The Blushing Bride-to-Be’s maternal figure swept her daughter’s progeny into a side room and put the fatigued tot down for a nap. He had been dismissed, sent off to do whatever it was he did, and The Jackal had finally been given a moment of peace and quiet. Like any rationally minded and sane computer genius, he had used the opportunity to take a nap, choosing the pulpit as his place of rest as he curled up into the fetal position and snored himself to sleep.  
  
The slumber had been blissful… all seven minutes of it, because, apparently, according to The Fair Maximista, his bulldozer impression had been giving him a migraine, and she had better things he could do with his time than frustrate her. Her day, his closest and most demanding friend had informed him, was already hectic enough. The least he could do was offer to help her out.  
  
So, with that in mind, she had volunteered him for tech duty, something they both knew him to be well trained for. First, he had inspected the microphones, testing and testing them twice to make sure every welcome guest would be able to properly hear the auditory blessings the priest would lavish upon the soon-to-be wedded couple. Secondly, he had arranged a near perfect soundtrack for the reception, choosing songs of all genres, tempos, and ethnicities to entertain and delight the revelers who would soon be boogying to his beats. And, by simply preselecting the order of the tunes and designing a program on his laptop which they had stopped by the Scorpion Abode just long enough on their way to the church for him to pick up, Spinelli was able to make sure the soothing and saucy serenades wouldn’t play until the exact moment Mr. and Mrs. Doctors Drake were announced at their reception.  
  
But that was not where his true brilliance had shined through. Rather, he had shown his expertise to everything and all things weddings related when he had designed the setup to the video recording system that would be used to document every tear filled, hanky inducing moment of a most romantic day for all of posterity. Instead of just one camera, he had set up multiple so that, when the day was complete, he would be able to go back and splice together a multi-angled, Oscar worthy film. Of course, he would do so with The Fair Maximista at his side, insisting upon her eye for all things aesthetically pleasing as they searched the hours and hours of footage for the best possible shots of The Most Medicinal Couple. Not only would such an endeavor grant him an opportunity to spend more time with His Lady Fair, but the young cyber sleuth hoped it would also inspire feelings of warmth and affection in his fashionable friend and, perhaps, even make her think about what their wedding could, nay would, look be like  
  
At the very thought of marrying the most gorgeous, courageous, and sassy woman in all the land, both earthbound and computer created, Spinelli sighed, leaning his lank, lax form leisurely against the church’s doorway in which he stood. Oh, to be Mr. Maxie Jones, what he wouldn’t give for such a pleasure.  
  
A persistent yet not all together unpleasant vibration startled him from his daytime fantasies, and the brunette hacker immediately reached for his cell phone, the newest and latest mobile on the market, only available to those who knew how to hack into a company’s database and put themselves on the test product list, smiling at the realization that he had a text. It was probably The Fair Maximista, informing him of yet another thing she needed him to do for her of which he would do so gladly, with a smile on his cheery countenance.  
  
However, when he glanced at the buzzing piece of plastic and metal, the number that flashed upon his screen was not the one belonging to his beloved but, rather, to her engaged… cousin/sister, of sorts. Really, he wasn’t quite sure what the familial connection was between The Blonde One and her raven haired counterpart, but that was something The Jackal would ponder at a later, less pressing date.  
  
Flipping open the phone, he read the text aloud, whispering the words despite the fact that he was all by himself in the large, lavishly decorated, all-holy sanctuary. “Stall the wedding. Will be there soon… with Jason.”  
  
Despite his quiet utterances, the words still echoed off the hallowed walls, reverberating and repeating themselves around his prone form. Stone Cold? He was coming to the wedding? But how? The last Spinelli knew his mentor had refused to associate with anyone not of their dark and dangerous world, his secret pain eating away at him to the point where he had become a broken, haunted recluse. It wasn’t as though the intelligent hacker was disappointed in The Fair Physician’s news, but, instead, he was merely surprised… and slightly baffled about how he, The Innocent Grasshopper, was to stall her impending nuptials.  
  
Unlike her first attempt at matrimony, the dashing groom, complete with his tux, cufflinks, and slightly inebriated best man, was already at the church, and the rest of the wedding party, other than the bride, were off prepping and primping for the all too soon auspicious occasion. In fact, the first guest had arrived just moments before, Mr. Corinthos, Sir, who had come early to speak with the priest and offer his confession of guilt and sin. The two of them had gone off to a separate part of the church, a less festive and, in the professional hacker’s opinion, rather creepy and intimidating part of the church to kneel, and pray, and pay penance for…  
  
And that was it!  
  
Eureka! They didn’t call him a genius for nothing, Spinelli thought to himself as he practically skipped, hurriedly, towards the direction in which he had watched The Godfather and his robed confidant embark. In just a matter of minutes, he had located them, their softy spoken voices giving their location away rather easily, and, without attracting their attention, he shoved a chair under each of their doors, effectively trapping them into the tight, suffocating cubicles of confession they were both each occupying.  
  
However, The Jackal was wise enough to realize that his solution to The Blushing Bride’s request was merely temporary and would not last long enough in order to carry out her most important demand, so, setting off to another isolated part of the church, a second aspect of his stalling plan took root in his devious yet oh-so-intelligent mind.  
  
Allowing himself entry into the dressing chambers, he tiptoed towards the garment bags hanging up on the wardrobe doors, unzipping the luggage to reveal both the eggshell gown of the bride’s and the duly hued crimson frock of the maid-of-honor’s. While both were gorgeous, he knew better than to touch either in his efforts to stall the approaching wedding. Rather, he just wanted their matching shoes, figuring that hiding the accessories would cause blind and sheer panic while still not completely derailing the festive event they were all gathered there for that day to witness.  
  
However, before doing so, the cyber sleuth felt rather parched, so he meandered his way to the mini-fridge located ever-so-conveniently in the room, popping it open only to find the cooling agent filled to the brim with water bottles and his cherished, prized orange soda.  
  
Aw, how The Fair Maximista always looked out for his best interests.  
  
Opening it immediately, he took a large gulp from the refreshing beverage, moving back towards the hanging, designer duds without glancing up from his shiny shoed feet. If he did say so himself, he cut a fine looking image, his suit hardly wrinkled at all from the afternoon’s chores and his tie practically centered.  
  
In his haste to admire his own appearance, though, Spinelli forgot about his clumsy nature, tripping on a wayward chair leg and tumbling forward, his beloved fruity soda launching itself out of his hands only to splash all over his closest friend in the world’s dress before falling, empty, to the carpeted floor.  
  
Immediately, his eyes went wide in horror, and a cold sweat found its way spreading down his neck. His efforts had been successful. He had managed to stall the upcoming nuptials. However, at what cost would his success come at? The answer to that question the young hacker feared immensely, so much so that he scampered out of the dressing room and fled back to the refuge of the sanctuary, hoping, praying The Fair Maxmista would never learn of his duplicitous deception, for, if she did…  
  
Oh, he shuddered at the mere thought.  
  
Thank god Stone Cold was on his way, for he would, undoubtedly, protect him or, at least, shelter him for one major, Blonde One sized storm.


	4. Chapter Four

**Chapter Four  
CFFC#4: There are three stages of man: he believes in Santa Claus; he does not believe in Santa Claus; he is Santa Claus.**

Something just didn't feel… _right_ … with Robin.

Glancing towards the exuberant brunette, Jason had to admit that her strange behavior could have just been the combination of new motherhood and her impending wedding to the man she loved. Even as the thought filtered through his mind, though, he inwardly pushed it aside. That wasn't it; a mere contentedness with her life just didn't seem like enough motivation to make the doctor so… _smug_ , and, while Robin Scorpio was many things, typically she wasn't arrogant and conceited.

No, that was her future husband's role in their relationship, the mob boss added silently to himself.

Shaking off his thoughts, because, really, what point would having them serve, he went back to paying attention to the road and, every few moments, taking a bite of his pear. He had to hand it to his ex-girlfriend and current friend. The fruit tasted good. Whether or not that had to do with the fact that he couldn't remember when he had last had something to eat… Well, let's just say he refused to tell the physician that. After all, the last thing he needed was for her to start worrying over him. If Robin took notice of his diet or lack thereof, Jason feared he would have meals delivered to his penthouse three times a day. Plus, he had a sneaky suspicion he would start receiving routine checkup visits from the pushy doctor herself, and all he really wanted was to simply be left alone.

Speaking around a bite, he asked, "are you sure it was a good idea to leave your car at The Towers?"

After they had arrived in the parking garage together, she had insisted that they ride to the church in one vehicle, citing crazy examples of what could possibly go wrong if they went separate to get her way. Between blown tires to cold feet, Robin had covered all the bases, but, really, he had simply given in to shut her up. And she had seemed to sense his irritation at her constant stream of chatter, for she had not said a word since they had climbed into the front of his SUV.

The doctor shrugged disinterestedly. "Patrick will have his car, and it makes no sense for the both of us to have our vehicles at the church." Waving off his next protest, she insisted, "I'll just pick it up sometime next week."

"Next week?"

"Honeymoon," she filled in for him, grinning mischievously. "Despite the fact that Emma is going with us, I have absolutely no plans of leaving the hotel room. At all."

Wordlessly, Jason grumbled. Why people felt the need to talk about their sex lives, he didn't know. Even when people asked him about his, he kept it private. What a man and a woman did when they were alone was nobody's business but theirs, and, in his opinion, the world would be a much better place if everyone adopted that motto. Especially Carly.

"If you want," he offered, redirecting their topic of conversation, "I could have one of my guys drop it off at your apartment for you."

"You could," Robin agreed, smiling up at him. "And I would appreciate that. Consider that, you going today, and you trying the pear for me my wedding present from you. Speaking of which," she segued, twisting in her seat to face him more fully, tucking her seatbelt underneath her arm so it wouldn't cut into her neck. "How's the fruit?"

"Good."

"Come on Jason," the medical professional cajoled. "You have to give me a little more to go on than good."

"Keep the fruit; give them to Patrick," he advised. "He'll like them."

Curling back around, he heard her give off a little huff of frustration, and Jason found himself wondering what the hell he had done to her. Honestly, considering the circumstances, he felt as if he had been a pretty decent friend to his ex, but, for some unknown reason, she seemed annoyed with him. However, that annoyance didn't transcend to silence, for, after just a few seconds of quiet between them, she asked, "since when do you eat pears?"

Answering honestly, he replied, "I'll eat anything."

"You know what I meant, Jason, so don't be so literal," Robin complained.

"When I was traveling," he started, slowly losing himself in the past. "I never would want to stop to eat. It just seemed like a waste of time to me, especially if I wanted to be alone. Restaurants… they're crowded. And loud, but I knew I had to eat."

"So, Sonny finally managed to pound that fact into your thick skull, huh?"

"Yeah," the blonde agreed cagily, totally oblivious to whether or not his friend noticed his hesitance to expand upon the subject. "Something like that. Anyway," he continued, erasing the image of a particular blue eyed woman from his mind with a quick, reflexive shake of his head. "I would just pull over my bike and pick a few pieces of fresh fruit when I was passing by an orchard. I'd eat one right away and put the rest in my bag for later."

Sounding teasingly aghast, Robin exclaimed, "Jason Morgan would steal?"

"No," he argued, exasperatingly feeling the heat rise to his otherwise tan cheeks. "I'd leave a few bills pinned to the trees for the farmer to find later."

She laughed, and the sound seemed to ease the tension that had settled around them during the car ride. They were almost to the church, just a few miles off from their destination, and, despite the fact that he was glad he and Robin had figured out a way to be in each other's lives again, he just wanted the day to be over so he could be alone once more.

Interrupting his thoughts, the physician suggested, "let's play a game."

Without intention, his brow wrinkled with bewilderment. "You want to go to Jake's? _Now?_ "

"First of all, Jake's is closed," she informed him. "Remember, Coleman is Patrick's best man."

"Right. Please don't explain that one to me, okay?"

She giggled at his request, obliging it willingly. "Secondly," Robin returned to his previous inquiry. "What does Jake's have to do with a little game?"

"I only play pool. If I'm not at the penthouse, I only go to Jake's to play pool."

"I meant a mind game, Jason."

"Like I said," he went to repeat himself. "I only play…"

But she interrupted him, posing a question in a louder voice than the one he was using. "If you could have anything, anything at all, what would you want for Christmas this year?"

"You're buying me a gift?"

"Jason," she chastised him good-naturedly. "That's not how you play this game. You don't get to answer my question with another question."

"Well, I don't understand why you asked me that. We don't exchange presents, and, even if we did, I don't need anything."

"I didn't ask you what you needed, though I do reserve the right to argue with you about the fact that you say you don't need anything." Taking a deep breath, she pressed on. "What I wanted to know is what you _want_ for Christmas."

Breathing out harshly, he gripped the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary. As he thought, she remained still. The only sounds that filled the cabin of the SUV were the sounds of her relaxed breathing and his slightly elevated respirations and the sounds of the tires rolling over the uneven planes of the paved road. In turn, the stillness reminded him of everything he wanted but couldn't have, and the repeated realization further cemented his resolve to ignore what he wanted in life and, instead, solely focus on what those around him needed.

Finally, he answered, "I'd take another one of those pears… if you have one with you."

"Sorry," Robin responded smoothly. Hearing the challenging tone of her voice, Jason ground his teeth together and steeled his jaw. "They're in my car, but you're welcome to them."

"What about Patrick?"

She waved off his concerns. "Oh, I'll just get him some more later. However, I must say," the doctor stated, her voice dripping in disapproval. "That was one lame Christmas wish. If I was Santa and you had just given me your wish list, I would imagine you'd be one very disappointed boy tomorrow morning."

"He's the guy in the red suit, right, the one who makes the list of all the nice and naughty children?"

"So, you are aware of Old St. Nick?"

"I read," the mob boss simply stated. "And Michael…" Swallowing thickly past the thump that had formed in his throat at the very thought of the little boy he had loved and lost due to the violence of his chosen lifestyle. "When he was little, he used to tell me all about Santa, about going to see him at the mall with his mom and about what he asked him for Christmas." They were both silent for a moment as they thought of the child that had meant something special to the both of them at one point. "Anyway, the reason I ask is because, for one, he's make believe. Two, he's for children, not adults. And three, there's no way I would be on anyone's nice list."

"Oh, I beg to differ," Robin immediately disputed. "You're nice to me. Despite herself, I've heard Maxie say a few kind words about you this year. Monica would wish you well, whether it's the holiday season or not. We might have our differences, but Carly loves you, and she would definitely consider you one of the good guys."

"The fact that you're using Carly's judgment to make a point really discredits everything else you have to say," the blonde insisted, and, despite himself and the melancholy turn their conversation had taken, he smirked.

"Well, there's also Elizabeth."

As soon as _her_ name left his friend's mouth, the mob boss visibly tensed, the color draining from his face. "I don't want to talk about that."

"She would only want good things for you, too, Jason, the best. She and her sons… your son…"

Slamming on the brakes and pulling over to the side of the road, the other drivers around them protesting his actions with blaring horns and muffled obscenities he couldn't hear, he threw the SUV into park and turned to glare at the woman beside him. Breathing heavily through his nose, he demanded, "what did you just say to me."

But Robin didn't repeat herself. "Jake, Jason," she insisted, leaning over to take one of his shaking hands between the both of hers. Immediately, he registered the fact that the brunette's fingers were cool and clammy, a sure sign of nerves, but, in his shocked and frantic frame of mind, the desperation he felt to make her stop talking nearly choking him, he didn't particularly notice or care just how anxious his friend was to be confronting him with the truth about his son.

"I know the truth. I went over to see Elizabeth today, and I was just sitting there, watching her feed Jake as he watched me, and, suddenly, it all clicked. I looked into his eyes, your eyes, and I just knew, and, Jason," she implored him, the desperate sound of her voice making him finally meet her concerned, earnest gaze. "He would want you happy, too. He would want you to have everything and anything you want in life."

"Even if it cost him his," the mob bossed asked, his voice beyond ice cold, practically dead in tone, and they both knew the question was rhetorical.

Putting the vehicle back into gear, he eased it into traffic once again, and they continued to make their way to the church. Silence had descended upon them, and, by the time they reached the house of worship two minutes later, an uncertainty hung between the two brooding individuals. Without asking for Robin's permission, he parked his SUV out of the way, far from the other cars just in case someone decided to come after him while he was out at the wedding. Neither of them spoke even as they exited the vehicle and began the lengthy trek on foot towards the entrance. Jason jiggled his keys in his pocket, and Robin stared at her feet as she took routine, measured steps in the proper direction. It wasn't until they both heard voices carried to them on the wind that either of them looked up and took notice of their surroundings, but, as soon as they did, they both halted, their progression completely stopped.

Elizabeth, several hundred feet away, stood before them, her long, curled hair and unbuttoned, tea length coat both blowing in the breeze. She was helping her boys get unbuckled from their car seats, talking to them the entire time. She told them about why they were there, who they might see, and she encouraged them, despite her own despondent mood, that they would have a good time at the wedding. The children seemed content with her reassurances, and Cameron kept insisting that he'd be a good boy as long as there was cake - lots and lots of Chocolate cake. Taking them both by a tiny, trusting hand, she led them into the church, never once taking notice of the woman who shied away from her presence or the man who thirsted for it.

Once they were completely gone, Jason turned towards the bride-to-be. "Is that why you really wanted me here today?"

"Do you want the truth?"

"Of course I want the truth," he bit out harshly, glowering at the petite brunette. "I always want the truth," he insisted, but her curt, pointed glare at his words told him they both knew that wasn't always the case.

However, that didn't stop her from giving the truth to him, just like it never seemed to stop Robin from ever telling anybody the truth, whether it was desired or not. "Elizabeth and the boys are one reason why I asked you to come to my wedding, but they're not the only reason." Pivoting so that she was facing him head on, the doctor continued. "I also asked you here because you are my friend, and friends go to each other's weddings. Whenever you eventually get married again someday, I will be there, with bells on, even if you try to stop me. And I wasn't lying to you when I said that my parents and uncle will be too distracted to properly look out for my guests." Narrowing her eyes in confrontation, she asked, "did you honestly think I would make up a story about my own father having cancer?"

"No, of course not," Jason defended himself and, in turn, defended her. "But that doesn't mean that you didn't manipulate me into doing something I didn't want to do."

"I did what was necessary."

Placing his hands on his hips in an accusatory manner, the blonde queried, "and that's it? That's all you have to say? No other excuses?"

"Unlike you, Jason," Robin got in one last parting shot before turning around and walking, chin up proudly, towards the church. "I don't make excuses for my actions. I own them – all of them. Good, bad, wrong, or right, I don't hide from my choices, or my responsibilities, or from my desires. For a man who's all about the truth, Morgan, you sure as hell lie to yourself all the time, don't you? And, worse, you lie to your son as well. The Jason I know wouldn't do that, but I don't recognize the man standing before me right now. Find a way to fix this, or I'll find a way to fix it for you."


	5. Chapter Five

**Chapter Five  
** CFFC#5: If TV has taught me anything, it's that miracles always happen to the poor kids at Christmas. It happened to Tiny Tim, it happened to Charlie Brown, it happened to the Smurfs, and it's going to happen to us.  
 _**~ Bart Simpson, Simpson Episode Roasting on an Open Fire** _

Using all the strength he could muster, Cameron Webber pulled away from his mother and pushed open the front doors to the church, for he was excited. His mommy had told him there would be cake, and he wanted to be the first person in line to see it. To smell it. To taste it.

However, much to his disappointment, there was no chocolate cake in sight. Instead, he only saw girly things. There were lots of flowers, and candles, and bows. Plus, the church smelled weird and definitely not life cake. If there was one scent in the whole, wide world that he knew by heart, it was the smell of baking cake. His Grandma Audrey always made it for him whenever he went to visit her, and, because his mommy had to work so much, he went to his Grandma Audrey's almost every day. He really hoped that she was the one making the chocolate cake for the wedding.

With slumping shoulders, he turned around to face his family, waiting for them to reach his side. He wanted out of his winter coat. It was too hot, his scarf made it hard to breathe, his mittens prevented him from really touching things, and his boots were hard to run in. How was he supposed to play if he was all bundled up? But his mommy seemed distracted, hardly even seeing him standing impatiently before her, and Jake was too caught up in all the new sights surrounding them to pay attention to his big brother. Annoyed, Cameron gave a little huff of impatience, the rude sound _finally_ making his mom notice him.

"What, Cameron?" Her voice was short, lacking its usual warmth whenever she spoke to him, and she sounded exhausted. He didn't like it when his mommy was in a bad mood, but, for some reason unknown to the toddler, she had been in one for a long time – almost three whole weeks! – and nothing seemed to be changing. He did know that she had been crying a lot lately, hiding in her room when she thought he and his little brother were asleep, and it made him wonder if, maybe, his mommy was on Santa's naughty list that year. For as unhappy as she was, that was the only excuse he could think of.

Even though he felt bad for her, that did not make up for the fact that there was no cake yet, and Cameron wasn't about to let her off the hook so easily. She had promised after all. Taking a step towards his mom, he complained, "this place is stupid. There are no toys, it smells weird, and where is my cake?"

She ignored his first three complaints and focused on the last one. "You'll get your cake later." Later. Why, with mommies, was it always later? In protest, he pouted. "Fine, if that's the way you want to act, then you can just stand there while I undress Jake first. And I swear, Cam, if you're bad today…"

She never finished her threat, but his mom rarely did. She thought that just warning him all the time scared him into behaving, but she was wrong. He just knew how far he could push her before she really got mad, and, knowing that she wasn't there yet, he took the opportunity to stick his tongue out at her before scrambling back a few paces and turning around so that he couldn't see her stupid face anymore. That, he thought to himself smugly, would show her.

Five minutes later, he felt her hands on his shoulders, twisting him around. Without meeting his gaze, she quickly worked at removing his winter coat, scarf, mittens, and boats, changing his shoes to his fancy pair that pinched his toes. He hated those ugly, shiny shoes. However, before he could complain, the best thing ever happened: Jason walked into the stinky, boring church.

He was dressed fancy, too, so Cam knew he was there for the wedding, and the little boy wondered if it was the promise of chocolate cake that made him come as well. After Emily went to heaven the year before, he remembered talking to his friend Jason about chocolate cake, so he figured his friend liked it, too. Before he could ask him, though, Cameron watched with wide, surprised eyes as his shy, quiet brother walked over to _his_ friend Jason, lifted his arms towards the motorcycle owner, and said, "up," Jake's new favorite word.

Immediately, jealously flashed through him. He wanted to talk to Jason. He wanted Jason to pick him up. He wanted Jason to give him a hug. Not stupid Jake. And he wanted Jason to quietly talk about him, maybe even take him outside to show him his bike, but _noooo_! Because their mommy had undressed Jake first, he got to go to Jason before Cam even had a chance. It was so unfair!

With only one shoe tied, he pushed his mommy away by her shoulders, barely even noticing that she almost fell over before managing to catch herself with her hand in his rush to get to Jason. Managing to run without tripping on his shoelaces, he made it across the room quickly, lifting his arms just as his little brother did as soon as he came to a stop in front of his friend. "Up," Cameron requested, the same as Jake, and, just as Jason had lifted up his baby brother, he picked him up as well.

Happily, he twisted in Jason's arms to look at his mom. Whenever they saw Jason, his mom was always happy, and he knew this time would be no different. It had been so long since he had come to visit them, so he knew his mom would finally smile again, maybe even laugh, and, grinning at the thought, the toddler imagined his mommy asking Jason to pick her up, too. After all, mommies were silly like that, especially his.

But, for someone reason Cameron didn't understand, when his mommy stood up, turned around, and saw both he and Jake with Jason, she didn't smile, and she certainly didn't laugh. Instead, he could see her fighting back tears, and he grew angry once again.

This – Jason being there – was a good thing, but, no matter what he, or Jake, or anyone else did, his mom was still always sad, and it made him mad that no one could help her, that _he_ couldn't help her. But, this time, he stayed quiet, waiting to see what the adults would say, hoping they would give him some clue as to what was wrong.

"I… uh… they asked," Jason told his mom, shrugging his shoulders, despite holding both he and his brother, to explain why he had picked them up.

"I understand. It's fine."

"As far as me being here…"

"You're one of Robin's oldest friends, so…"

"But you work with her," Jason argued with his mom. Didn't he know better than to do that? Mommies were always right… even when they were wrong.

"I… we can go."

"No, it's fine. Stay."

"But the boys...," his mom protested, and all Cameron wanted to know was what about him and Jake.

"You should be here. It'll be good for you to be…"

"Yeah," his mom agreed, blushing slightly. "I haven't been going out much since…"

"Me either."

Really, adults were so confusing. As they continued their back and forth conversation, never quite finishing anything they had to say, his head bounced back and forth between both his mom and his friend Jason. Giggling at the thought, Cameron realized he probably looked like a ping pong ball. He liked ping pong, wondered if Jason did, too, and thought, if he ever got a chance to talk to the motorcycle owner, he would ask him. But that was a big if, because, knowing how well his mommy liked to talk, they could be here for a long, long time.

"Then you should stay, too. I mean, we're not here…"

"For each other," Jason finished for his mom. "We're here for Robin."

"Exactly, and it's not like we're going to sit with each other." At that, Cameron frowned. Why not, he wanted to ask. Jason was mommy's friend, he was his friend, and, noticing Jake's bowed head resting on Jason's shoulders, it was obvious his little brother liked him, too.

"Right, so you think it'll be…"

"It'll be fine, Jason."

No, Cam thought angrily to himself. If the adults were going to act this stupid, things were not fine. For one, there was _still_ no cake, and, secondly, Jason _should_ sit with them. And he was going to tell his mommy and Jason just that! But before the words could leave his mouth, someone else decided to talk, loudly interrupting him and his train of thought.

Looking messy and scared, Spinelli ran up to Jason, grasping him roughly by the arm that was holding Cameron. Turning his head to glare at the silly man, the toddler tried to show the new arrival just how unhappy he was with him for butting in where he didn't belong, but Spinelli didn't seem to notice just how mad Cam was… which only made his anger worse. He wanted to kick him in his stupid head, but, unfortunately, the way Jason was holding him, he couldn't get his leg free to do so, and it wasn't like he was going to ask Jason to put him down. At least he knew that Jason wouldn't hold Spinelli like he was holding him.

"Stone Cold, The Jackal apologizes profusely for intruding upon such an intimate moment between his master, The Maternal One, and Stone Cold's two progenies, but the current dire situation required defensive measures only your aptly wired hard drive could compute."

Despite himself, Cameron felt his anger being replaced by curiosity. For one, Spinelli's weird words were interesting. Then there was his mom's reaction. She was squirming like the worm he had dug up and took into the house during the summer, and Jason had turned bright red – like a fire truck, and, really, all he wanted to do was laugh. But he didn't, because he had a feeling it would be important for him to hear every word that was said between the goofy adults.

"First of all, Spinelli, lower your voice," Jason hissed at his friend. "You know better than to talk about Elizabeth and the boys like that, especially in public. Do you know who could have overheard you?"

"I know, I know, but, most unfortunately, I, your loyal and more often than not reverential grasshopper, am afraid that the circuits in my brain are no longer…"

Sounding frustrated, Jason ordered, "just tell me what happened."

"Well, you see," Spinelli explained, "I received a call some time ago, I would approximate nearly thirty minutes ago, from The Blushing Bride-to-Be, requesting of The Jackal to stall her rapidly approaching nuptials."

Cameron watched as Jason's eyes left his friends and focused on his mommy's face. "Yeah, that makes sense," he said. However, he also watched as no one else seemed to pay the action any attention. But it made sense to him, because Jason was always looking at his mommy like that.

"So, I dutifully set out to complete my most imperative of tasks."

"What did you do?"

"Well, first, I locked Mr. Sir and the priest in the confessional booths, but…"

Yelling and startling Jake, Jason asked, "you did what?"

Spinelli immediately flinched backwards, his dark eyes glancing around the room liked a scared bunny rabbit. "I… uh…"

"I heard what you did. What I want to know," Cameron's friend told him, "is why you would do such a thing. Sonny is claustrophobic."

Looking like he knew he was in trouble, the goofy, messy man still said, "there are air holes in the doors, Stone Cold," but he took another step back away from Jason as soon as he said it."

"I don't care. You're going to go let him out right now!"

"While it is always my mission in life to serve and please you, master," Spinelli stated, making Cam giggle. He said such silly things. "I fear there is something more ominous for us to be concerned about. After locking up The Godfather and His Holiness, I then proceeded to advance towards the bridal suite where I accidentally, purely unintentionally, might have spilled almost an entire bottle of orange soda upon the most important element of the entire wedding and reception tradition."

Whispering, Jason accused, "you spilled pop on Robin's wedding dress?"

"Oh, of course not, Stone Cold; I spilled it on The Fair Maximista's lovely gown, and I fear that, when she finds out about his maladroit gaffe, she will banish him from her life permanently."

Cam looked at his mom when he heard her say, "you couldn't be so lucky, Spinelli," underneath her breath, and he wondered what she meant by it. However, before he could ask, he could feel himself being shifted about and, once again, his feet were firmly planted on the ground. "Go help Sonny," his mother told Jason before nodding in the messy man's direction, "and I'll help Spinelli with Maxie's dress. If we can't fix it, I'll tell her that I was the one who spilled orange soda on her dress."

"You would do that, Maternal One, for me, the lowly, unworthy Jackal?"

Simply stated, his mother replied, "no, but I would do that for Jason."

And, just like that, he and his brother, without Jason, were carried off to another stinky, boring, cake-less part of the church. Weddings were so stupid!


	6. Chapter Six

**Chapter Six  
** CFFC#6: I'm dreaming of a white Christmas  
Just like the ones I used to know  
Where the treetops glisten  
and children listen  
To hear sleigh bells in the snow  
 _**~ White Christmas** _

After nearly three decades in the spy business, Anna Devane really didn't understand the real world anymore. It was all just rather confusing. At least, when she was working, things made sense; everything had its place. There were the good guys, the bad guys, and those who just simply didn't matter or register on her radar. She was given assignments and then did everything within her power to see those assignments through. Life was streamlined when she was working, but vacations were just so chaotic, so taxing… especially when said vacations were typically spent in Port Charles where nothing happened the way they were supposed to.

Currently, she was being dragged – literally – through the church by her errant, late daughter who was still dressed in the rather tacky sweats that had the word _bride_ embroidered across her rump. Instead of getting dressed and putting on her gorgeous, white gown, Robin insisted upon traipsing around in comfortable clothing, and Anna knew, if she didn't intervene soon, the maddening girl would probably insist upon walking down the aisle in the less than flattering ensemble. While she understood the impulse to keep one's legs as silky and smooth as possible for one's wedding night, such a goal should not come at the expense of fashion.

However, that was only a minor concern compared to the real issue at hand and that was why exactly her daughter was stalling her own wedding. Robin was about to get everything she wanted in life, everything her own parents should have been able to give her but had failed in doing so – a real family, complete with two parents who love each other and their little girl, the apple of both their eyes.

At just the mere thought of how she and Robert had let their precious daughter down, Anna's steps faltered slightly, but she mentally blamed the stumble upon the four inch heels she was currently wearing. It didn't matter if she could scale a building in stiletto boots. Today was supposed to be a happy day, and she wasn't about to allow herself to be bogged down in a complicated mire of self-doubt and regret, for today wasn't about her mistakes or her former husband's errors in judgment; today was all about Robin marrying the man of her dreams.

And that's when all the pieces clicked together.

Wrenching her hand free of her daughter's unyielding grasp, the WSB agent took a deep breath before asking her little girl the question that was now running rampant through her over-processing mind. "Are you having second thoughts?"

If the situation had been any less dire, she would have laughed at the bewildered expression that flashed across Robin's face, but pre-wedding jitters and the questioning of major life choices was not the proper time for such base humor. "Mom, what are you talking about? Second thoughts about what?"

"About marrying Patrick, of course," Anna answered for her, not allowing her daughter a moment to respond before she cut to the chase, skipped the pleasantries, and dove, head first, into her pep talk. "I know, I know," the spy admitted, holding up her hands, palms facing outwards as if to yield off her little girl's disputes, "Patrick has his flaws. He's arrogant, and work obsessed, not that I can actually fault him for that myself, all things considered, and, yes, once upon a time, he was quite the cad, but, Robin, love, all that's changed. He changed… for the better… because of you, because of his love for you and your daughter. While I know you might be scared, marrying Patrick…"

"Is the easiest decision I've ever made," the doctor interrupted, a crooked smile hooking up just a single corner of her painted, serene mouth. "Trust me, as far as my vows go, I'm not having second thoughts."

"Then what are we doing here?" Gesturing wildly about them, Anna pressed, "why are you dragging me through this church, practically yanking my arm out of its bloody socket?"

"Yeah," Robin cringed, blushing slightly at the accusation. "Sorry about that. I guess I just didn't want you to miss them."

"Miss who?"

"I'd rather show you then tell you, because, otherwise, I really don't think you'd believe me. So, come on," Robin insisted, reaching for her mother's hand, only to find her own empty when the spy refused to meet her touch.

"How about I just follow you? I'd like to have feeling left in my fingers for when I hold my beautiful granddaughter later. We don't need her hitting her head this early in life. We'll save that for later when the Scorpio stubborn streak really starts to kick in."

"Oh," her little girl smirked, appearing highly amused by Anna's remarks, "and the Devane's don't possess one of those stubborn streaks themselves?"

"Of course not," she rationalized. "We're all perfectly calm and adaptable. Just ask your father."

The only response she received was a rather unladylike snort, but she didn't stop to correct her daughter, in fear that such a thing would only prove to delay the already running late wedding even more. But she didn't have time to contemplate such a thing for long, because, in just a matter of moments, they were standing outside of partially shut door, and Robin was holding a lone finger to her lips, silently pleading with her mother to be quiet.

Anna obliged, knowing better than to either startle the person or persons they were eavesdropping on or to give away their now precarious position. While spying on someone at a wedding seemed less than worthy of proper WSB standards, this was a wedding that was taking place in Port Charles, a seemingly insignificant little riverside town that had been, for as long as she had been aware of the city, a hotbed for all things illegal. From the mob to national terrorists to crazy Russians looking to take over the world, it paid to always be on one's guard when visiting her former home base. After all, one never knew what kind of plot they could stumble across in such a place, and, even though she didn't like her daughter being in the center of what could very well turn into something quite dangerous and life-threatening, the adrenaline junkie in Anna was positively shaking from anticipation. Now, all she had to do was keep Robert's interfering self out of her case, and there would be peace and joy for…

"I know what Robin did – manipulating us both into coming here today – wasn't the safest thing for either you or the boys, but it's probably a good thing she did. I've been needing to talk to you…"

Anna's eyes practically bugged out of her head as she recognized the voices she was clandestinely listening to, not to mention the fact that Robin hadn't brought her to a hotbed of illegal activity but, instead, a meeting between secret lovers.

"What, what is it? Is something wrong? Did something happen? Are you alright, Jason? Is there another danger, something I need to be prepared for?"

"That's just it," the mob boss, and, really, the WSB agent smirked to herself, his lawyer could claim anything she wanted, but the whole world knew that Morgan was as dangerous as they came. Cute, she admitted to herself, but dangerous. No wonder her daughter had had a thing for him back in the day. "I'm not really sure if what's happened is a bad thing or a good thing."

"I don't understand…"

"A couple weeks ago, I was approached by Agent Rayner."

"The FBI agent who questioned us in connection to Jake's kidnapping?"

Anna flew through her measly collection of Port Charles gossip, trying to piece together just what exactly the single mother and the former enforcer were discussing. While she had absolutely no knowledge of _another_ kidnapping, she did know that Jake Spencer was Elizabeth Webber's son with her former husband, Lucky Spencer, but what she didn't know was how Jason Morgan fit into the picture.

"Yeah, that's the one. Anyway, he came to me and asked me to roll over on Sonny and The Zaccharas."

"And in return?"

"I'd receive blanket immunity… for everything."

Anna nearly whistled out loud. Blanket immunity, the FBI rarely offered such a thing, especially to someone with such a laundry list of crimes under their belt, and it told her that her compatriots in the United States Government really were serious about cracking down on the mob influence in Port Charles. It was about damn time!

"And did you take it," Elizabeth wanted to know. Hell, at that point, _she_ wanted to know as well. This was a pretty interesting – not to mention intense – situation her daughter had pulled her into, quite literally, one ripe with landmines of emotion just ready to erupt at even the slightest of provocations. However, she couldn't help but realize that there were errors in the FBI's plan, glaring ones, ones that she herself, if this was her case, would find a way to prevent.

Sighing, Morgan brought her back to the topic at hand, and she refocused upon the conversation she and her little girl were eavesdropping on. "I haven't given them an answer yet. I just… there's so much to consider here, Elizabeth."

"You still feel loyal to Sonny." It wasn't a question but, rather, a statement, and the sentiment presented left a bitter taste in Anna's mouth. How anyone could still be loyal to such a pompous ass as Sonny Corinthos, she had no idea. Why, even her own sensible, responsible daughter, after so many years, still had a soft spot for the misogynistic kingpin, and it made her wonder just what exactly the don did to inspire such devotion in those closest to him.

"But then there are you and the boys, Elizabeth," Jason insisted. "Diane made a good point when I told her about the FBI's offer. She said that, no matter how many times we walk away from each other, my enemies already know that you and the boys are important to me, that you will always be the easiest way for them to get to me."

"But your enemies don't know that Jake is your son, and, if we stay apart…"

If she had been surprised to hear that the good nurse was secretly cavorting with the local mobster, that revelation didn't even hold a candle to the shock she felt when she found out that Jake Spencer was really Jake Morgan, the undisclosed love child between two of her daughter's best friends. No wonder Robin had such an interest in this conversation, but what she really wanted to know was why exactly her daughter wanted her to be privy of all this vital, useful information.

"But Sonny knows, Elizabeth, and, now that he's working with the Zaccharas, now that he's married to Claudia…"

"You're afraid that he'll use Jake against you."

"Not only that," Jason admitted, "but I'm afraid he'll tell Claudia or Anthony or even Ric, and then you and the boys will definitely not be safe."

"Unless we're with you," the single mother pointed out.

"But, even then, you'll still be in danger."

"So," the nurse asked, "what if you take the deal?"

"The deal will remove the immediate threat of Sonny and the Zaccharas, but that'll still leave the Russians and any other future adversary. No matter what I do," and Anna could hear the frustration, the desperation in Morgan's voice, "you, and Jake, and Cam, all three of you will be in danger, so I need to know what _you_ want me to do. I can't make this decision for you, Elizabeth."

There was silence between the two lovers for several minutes, and, when next someone spoke, the spy had to strain to hear what was being said. "Things were so much easier between us that Christmas we spent in my studio together all those years ago. Even though you were shot…"

"Do you remember how I told you that you smelled like snow?"

She could hear the young nurse laugh softly, and she felt as though she were listening in on something too private, too personal for outsiders to witness, though that didn't make her leave. "Snow doesn't smell Jason."

"Yes, it does, and our son," the mob boss insisted, "he smells like it, too, just like you did…" There was a slight pause, and, then, he continued once more. "… and still do."

Whispering, pleading, begging, Elizabeth requested, "what if we just ran away together, with the boys, like I suggested before? Your reasons for staying, for Sonny and his family, they no longer exist."

"Yes, but my other family – Monica, Spinelli, even Edward, they still do, and I don't think I could leave Port Charles, leave them behind with absolutely no protection as the sole way for my enemies to get to me."

Backing away from the door, Anna signaled for her daughter to follow her. She had heard enough, and, now, she needed time to think. As painful as it was for her to admit it, Jason Morgan was right. To put it simply, he was between a rock and a hard place with absolutely no clear, viable option in front of him. The FBI, while offering him blanket immunity for his own crimes, still left him open to attack from the rest of the world. As long as they got the information they needed to put their intended targets away, they wouldn't care if Morgan, just another blight on society, just another mobster, died in the process, and, while they'd wring their hands and shake their heads at the unnecessary loss of three civilian lives if something were to happen to Elizabeth or her two sons, it was obvious that they were going to do nothing to prevent such a loss. It was just another reason for Anna to hold the FBI in contempt. No matter what resources were available to them, they never seemed to do the job right. Rather, it took her agency, the WSB, to ensure such a thing was done correctly, swiftly, shrewdly, and, now, all she needed to do was think.

Think of a way to ensure this secret family's future and lives. Think of a way to get Jason Morgan out of the mess he had gotten himself into so foolishly in the past. Think of a way to ensure that the peace she could bring to Port Charles could be lasting if not entirely legal.

But, most importantly, she needed to think of a way to do all of this without her ex-husband breathing a trace of it. After all, this was her baby now, her case, and Robert Scorpio was not about to steal her thunder. Or her chance for WSB fame, for, deep in her bones, this was a case for the record books… if, you know, the WSB was sloppy enough for such a thing. Which they were not. Yes, Anna Devane was on the case, and, when she was through, Jason Morgan wouldn't know what had hit him.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Chapter Seven  
CFFC#7: Christmas is doing something a little extra for someone. ** _**~ Charles Schulz** _

He hated weddings, and parties, and anything public that involved dressing up. Jason made no bones about the fact. But, for some reason, there just seemed to be an added element of torture to Robin's wedding, and he couldn't wait to escape.

Not that escaping was going to happen anytime soon.

He had given his word, something that, despite his less than honorable behavior as of late according to his friend, he still took extremely importantly, so there was simply no way around the fact that he had to remain for the duration of the entire event. Unfortunately, everything was already running behind, and, even worse, he knew that the delay was all on his behalf.

While the ceremony was supposed to have started more than an hour before, Robin had just now walked down the aisle. Jason had been surprised to see Robert on her arm. After hearing that the agent had undergone chemotherapy and radiation, he had, on his own, come to the conclusion that the older man would not be physically capable of doing such a simple task. But, then again, Robert Scorpio wasn't his sister, so it wasn't fair of Jason to judge every cancer patient by just how weak and sickly his sister had gotten with her debilitating, almost fatal case of the disease.

If he really thought about it, he was sure that he probably had noticed Robin's dress, and her hair, and just how beautiful she looked on her wedding day, but, unlike normal, his mind wasn't on his surroundings. He was distracted, a thoroughly unsafe approach to his life, but, with all the decisions waiting not-so-patiently at his feet for him to make, it was hard to think of anything but the business and how his next step as one of Port Charles' mob bosses would affect those he loved the most.

Shuffling his feet, he widened his stance, clasping his hands together tightly in front of his tense, standing form. He had refused to take a seat at the wedding, preferring, instead, to linger unobtrusively in the very back corner of the church. While he had used the excuse that the position gave him a better angle so as to watch out for and protect all those in attendance, that wasn't the only thing that had motivated him to remain upright during the ceremony. The truth of the matter was that he didn't feel worthy of sitting with the other guests. While his heart yearned to be with Elizabeth and her children, sitting with them and giving off the impression to the rest of the wedding attendants that they were the family they should very well be together, his head knew such a move would be a mistake.

Until he made his final, inflexible decision on how he would move forward with his organization, he had no right to drag the woman he loved and her two boys back into his life only to uproot himself from their presence once more. He had already gone in and out of their lives too often, not only tugging at both his and Elizabeth's heartstrings but also confusing Cameron and teasing Jake with the life the four of them could have together if just given the right opportunities.

And he would not do that again. That was one promise Jason Morgan was adamant he would keep.

However, he knew better than to think he would always be able to stay away from Elizabeth. There had been absolutely no reason for him to stop, pick up the boys, and talk to her when he had first arrived at the church over an hour ago, but he didn't even pause for a second to contemplate his actions when his son held up his little arms, requesting to be picked up. And when Cameron had done the same thing, his heart had nearly swelled to completion with just those two simple, yet genuine gestures. The only thing missing had been the boys' mother, but then she had crossed the room to come to stand before him, and, in that moment, he was lost. There had been absolutely no way he could have pulled away from any of them.

He didn't want to think about what he might have done if Spinelli hadn't of interrupted them, and, though he chastised the younger man for his revealing words, the truth of the matter was that Jason had been annoyed with himself. If his enemies thought that Elizabeth, Cameron, and Jake were his biggest weaknesses, they were completely correct. He craved their presence in his life more than he craved strong, black coffee, motorcycle rides, and quiet, solitary games of pool. Hell, if he could have the three of them with him permanently, he would give up every single other thing in his life that he enjoyed and loved. He was that selfish when it came to his family, that desperate, and, apparently, everyone around him was aware of that distraction as well.

But Elizabeth was stronger than he was, always had been in fact, and, after Spinelli finished with his panicked, baffling confession, she had taken control of the situation, reclaiming her children and separating them so that they could handle the computer hacker's dilemmas independently and discreetly. While she had sent him in one direction, she had taken herself and the boys off in another, and, as soon as they had disappeared from his sight, Jason started to miss them.

He took care of Sonny, though, first before roaming the church in search of his family. Before confronting the near hysterical mob boss, he had found Lainey Winters, and, between the two of them, they had convinced Sonny to go home, lie down, and take his medicine. By the time they had freed him of the small confines of the confessional booth, the older man was on his last frayed nerve. In fact, he had been so upset, it had never crossed his mind to even ask how he had gotten trapped in the first place, something Jason was sincerely thankful for. After all, the last thing he needed was for Sonny to find another reason to hate Spinelli, but he also knew it would have been impossible for him to lie to his former partner and friend, not because of their onetime unbreakable connection but because Sonny simply knew all of his tells.

By the time he found Elizabeth once more, using the excuse that he was simply securing the church and not actually searching out the woman he loved, he found her in a spare, empty office, hastily trying to wipe off and clean her dress to the best of her abilities. However, her angry, frustrated actions were simply setting the dark stain in even deeper, so he had wordlessly crossed to her, taken the rag from her hands, and resumed the job for her. Without words being shared, she had relaxed under his touch, the children continuing to play quietly in the corner with a couple pieces of paper and some spare crayons she had found them.

She had told him about Maxie flying off the handle when she had discovered her ruined silk, bridesmaid dress. Despite their combined best efforts, she and Spinelli had been unable to remove or even mask the orange soda marks from the crimson gown, and Maxie had literally caught them red handed with the ruined garment. In her rage, she had taken the lukewarm cup of half finished coffee she was holding and tossed it onto Elizabeth's own dress, not waiting for an explanation before losing her temper. Furious herself, especially to think that she had tried to help the hateful blonde, Elizabeth had simply glanced in the young computer genius' direction before picking up her kids and leaving the room and the two self-proclaimed best friends behind.

As she had relayed the events to Jason, she had been unable to tell him what Maxie had ended up saying to Spinelli or what had been decided about her dress, but, frankly, he hadn't been concerned with the annoying woman and her antics. She was always barging into his place, distracting and toying with Spinelli, and, since her dress had been destroyed by an innocent mistake, if she was the mature adult she claimed to be, if she was the loyal friend she professed to be, then she would have simply forgiven Spinelli and moved forward, and she never would have attacked Elizabeth out of some empty quest for revenge.

However, there had been a silver lining to the girl's antics. Because she had thrown a fit, he had been able to spend more alone time with Elizabeth, and he had been given the opportunity to tell her about the FBI's offered deal. Even after talking to her, though, he still had no idea what he was going to do, but he was resolved that he would make his decision by the New Year. The two of them had already wasted so much time together and so much time with their son, and Jason was determined that another year would not pass by without him somehow stepping up and doing what was right by his family. If only deciding what exactly that was, though, was as simple.

Releasing a deep breath of frustration and tension, he tried to look as though he was engrossed in the events before him, but, frankly, the only wedding he would ever be interested in would be his own. To Elizabeth. But, instead of standing beside him, swearing their vows to each other, she was off sitting several rows away, Jake in her lap and Cam by her side… where he was supposed to be.

Hell, Jason wasn't even sure where part of the ceremony the priest was at. Had Robin and Patrick exchanged rings yet? What about their vows? He knew better than to hope for the whole thing to be over soon. Life simply wasn't that kind to him. It didn't really matter, though, because even when the wedding itself was over, he had to go and endure hours of the couple's reception. Music, and dancing, and forced, pleasant conversation, just the mere idea of the entire situation made his glower darken and his posture become just that much more rigid.

"If anyone can show just cause why these two should not be married, speak now or forever hold your peace."

When those words left the priest's mouth, Jason almost hung his head in defeat, for the ceremony was only just really beginning, but, before he could rebel in his tiny display of dissatisfaction, there was a commotion, and he glanced back up to see what all the fuss was about.

There he was, little, mischievous, adorable Cameron Webber, so much like his mother when Jason had first met her, standing up and interrupting the wedding. The child, scrambling quickly away from his mother's desperate, embarrassed grasp, stood up on the pew and yelled for the whole church to hear. "Mister," he addressed the religious official. "I don't know what you're talking about, but I've waited forever, hours and hours and hours, for my cake. Mommy promised me cake, and I want cake. Chocolate cake. Do you know where it is?"

Smirking, the mob boss rubbed the side of his jaw so that no one would see his amusement. Especially Elizabeth, because he knew she wouldn't find her son's behavior to be funny at all. But the poor kid was right. He had heard her promise him cake when they had first arrived at the church, and, knowing how much Cameron loved anything and everything chocolate, just like his mother, the hour and fifteen minutes that he had now been waiting for his dessert had probably just about driven him crazy.

"I'm sure they'll have cake at the reception, young man," the priest answered Cam's concerns kindly, politely, with a hint of his own grin lighting up his otherwise stoic countenance. "Now, if you could just sit down for a few more minutes, please, we'll…"

"No," the toddler insisted, going so far as to stomp his foot in contradiction and refusal.

"Cameron Alexander Webber," Elizabeth threatened him, but the child simply ignored her, moving further away from her grasp and coming to stand in the middle of the alter. All eyes were on him, so, when Robin spoke up, addressing the child, everyone's heads quickly swiveled towards the alter once more.

"Cam, would you like to come up here and stand with us. That way, when we leave, you can be the first one to go to the car. In fact, if you want, you can even ride with Patrick and I to the reception, and I'll personally cut you your piece of cake as soon as we get there."

"Robin, really, please," Elizabeth insisted. "Don't humor him. He knows that he's being a bad boy, and you giving in to him is just going to compound the problem. No," the woman he loved argued, moving her own way towards the church's aisle, Jake still in her arms. "I think the best thing to do would be for me to take my boys home. I'm so sorry for interrupting and ruining your wedding."

Under her breath but still loud enough for the entire congregation to hear, Maxie whispered, "I think that's the first good idea you've had in years."

If there had been even a ghost of a smile still left on Jason's face, it surely disappeared with maid of honor's words, rather causing him to glare and grimace once more, the brunt of his resentment being directed, again, to the pesky blonde's direction.

"Absolutely not, Elizabeth." This time it was Patrick who spoke up. "You are our friend, and Cameron and I are buddies as well. Robin and I, we want you here and at our reception. And our wedding isn't ruined. In fact, I thought it was getting kind of boring. Compared to the last one, we needed something eventful to happen in order to make this ceremony just as interesting, so…" He turned and winked at the unhappy little boy who just wanted his cake. "Thanks, Cam."

"Do I get cake now?"

"No, not yet," the neurosurgeon told him, laughing softly. "But, like Robin said, if you want to, you can some stand up here with us. In fact, we don't have a ring bearer, so we actually need you to help us out. Can you do that, buddy?"

Jason watched from his far back corner of the church as Cameron silently thought over his options. Anyone who was looking at the five year old could see the wheels turning in his impish little head. After several moments, he glanced back in Jason's direction, his soft, brown curls bouncing slightly with the movement. Back and forth his eyes sprung until, finally, he took off sprinting in his decided direction.

Seconds later, the supposed hardened, cold, unfeeling mob boss felt a tiny, warm hand fold into his own much larger one, and he could have sworn his heart skipped a beat. Cameron immediately settled down as soon as he came to rest beside Jason, all his former complaints dying quickly only to be forgotten by all at the picture the innocent child and the full grown, world weary man made together. Elizabeth settled back down in her seat, hastily wiping away an errant tear, Robin smiled to herself, pleased with the picture behind her, and Spinelli fairly gloated, his pleasure translating into an inability to sit still in his pew any longer.

But Jason paid them no mind. All he could think about was the trust and love Cameron Alexander Webber had just shown him, and he knew, no matter what, he would return that trust and love to him. He would somehow find a way to show and tell the little boy just how much he meant to him, and he would find a way to do this for the rest of his life, no matter how long his life would be. Sonny or no Sonny, FBI or no FBI, danger or danger, the only thing that mattered was his family – Elizabeth, Cameron, and Jake. It had taken him almost two years to come to that realization, but it was better late than never, and, now, all he had to do was come up with a way to keep his unspoken promise to the child standing beside him.

Sighing, Jason shook his head slightly in self-disappointment. It was going to take a Christmas miracle to accomplish such a goal… and he didn't even believe in such things.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Chapter Eight  
** CFFC#8: **Charlie Brown** **: Thanks for the Christmas card you sent me, Violet.  
** **Violet** **: I didn't send you a Christmas card, Charlie Brown.  
** **Charlie Brown** **: Don't you know sarcasm when you hear it?  
** _**~ A Charlie Brown Christmas** _

"Do you know what the only thing worse than a mute mobster at a wedding reception is, Love," Robert Scorpio addressed his granddaughter who was sitting brightly, raptly, if he did say so himself, across from him at the designated 'family' table. Taking a generous gulp of his beverage and wincing at the fact that it was non-alcoholic, the aged Australian pressed on. "The answer is a cancer patient who's in remission and not allowed to drink."

Plopping his crystal goblet back down onto the fancily decorated table, he glanced around the holiday themed room. Hell, even the walls were red or, as Maxie had repeatedly pointed out to anyone and everyone who didn't want to listen to her, _crimson_. What that ridiculous girl's fascination was with the various hues of color, Robert Scorpio had no idea, not that he particularly wanted to know, and, for that matter, he had no idea how his simple, reasonably level-headed brother had raised such a shrieking banshee of a daughter.

"She's enough to give this old man a headache," he confided in baby Emma, and she remained silent, happily enjoying the sights and sounds around her, so he took that as her wholehearted agreement.

"What makes this whole entire shindig even worse is the fact that I have a control freak doctor for a daughter. You know your mother," the spy continued, waving his hand off in the last direction he had seen said daughter traipse. "If I were to so much as breathe in the fresh, aromatic scent of a nice, bracing glass of scotch, she'd cut off my nose just to spite me for even thinking of jeopardizing _my recovery_ with a drop of liquor."

He snorted, musing to himself that he sounded just as desperate for some booze as that no-good drunk Luke Spencer. At least that old goat wasn't there, goading him with tumbler after tumbler full of amber salvation. After all, there was nothing like watching your baby girl swear to love and cherish an undeserving man until death do they part to make a guy yearn for a little liquid courage.

"And speaking of your rascal of a father," Robert grimaced, the image of Patrick Drake, his new son-in-law, flashing through his glaringly sober conscious. "He's no better than your mother. Despite the fact that he should be doing everything within his power to weasel into my good graces, he would slap my wrists as soon as these nimble fingers of mine came into contact with anything that carried a proof along with its name." To emphasize his point, the WSB agent cracked his knuckles, sighing appreciatively at the sound his own joints made as though the snapping noise was music to his ears. "He's as just as much of a control freak as Robin is. Oh, what an interesting childhood you're going to have little one, that much, ol' Grandpa Robert can promise you."

Leaning back in his chair, his always alert senses roamed the two connected rooms being used to house his daughter's wedding reception. Despite the fact that it was a small party, the space was full, fairly bursting at the seams with color, and lights, and noise. Music rang in his ears, presently some god-awful, sniveling racket he knew only some college student or dope fiend would ever willingly listen to, laughter taunted him, and the sound of crystal and china tinkering together served for a backdrop to all the other commotion surrounding them.

And right in the middle of it, policing the event like it was a traffic accident and not a celebration, was his socially inept, clumsy, little brother. "Another thing, baby girl," Robert instructed the infant. "Don't let your Uncle Mac's bumbling smile and tousled, outdated 80's hair fool you either. That man would crack down on me in a second if he got wind that I was contemplating the idea of a nice, relaxing drink." Sneering, the spy complained, "always the police commissioner, that one. He never knows when to put the badge down which can be necessary, because, sometimes, and this is coming from a world renowned super spy, remember, the law isn't always right."

He sighed then, lifting his glass to swirl the fake bubbly contained within the expensive goblet around and around, the swirling liquid catching the various twinkling lights displayed about the room and sparkling back at him in a taunting manner. The sight, so beautiful yet so deceptive, made him think of Anna.

"And then there's your grandmother, kid, not that she's going to like you calling her that. She'll probably make you call her nana or something equally ridiculous and British." Snorting at his own idea, the sound supposed to pass as laughter, Robert pressed on. "Aw, the lovely Miss Devane, luscious to the eyes but lethal to the touch. Out of everyone here, she's the one I really need to be worried about. No one knows me better, and no one knows how to spot one of my schemes quicker than she does. She's quite the woman, that one," he informed the third generation Scorpio present in the room, a begrudging tone of awe entering his otherwise stoic voice despite his best intentions.

"What kind of wicked ideas are you putting into my daughter's head," Robin asked. While she believed she had managed to sneak up on her old man, startling him, the spy had been aware of her approaching appearance before she was even aware of the fact that he was her intended target of movement. It just simply took too much effort, though, to tell her such a thing, so he let the moment go, instead turning around to grin at the only thing he had truly done right in his entire life.

"Hello, there, Love," he greeted her, smirking crookedly. "Enjoying your party, are we?"

"Dad," his doctor daughter chastised, reaching for his hands and pulling him up to a standing position beside her. "You never answered my question, and, yes, I am."

"It's called the artful dodge. You should try it yourself sometime," he suggested coyly.

Laughing, Robin admitted, "I'll keep that in mind. Now come on," she insisted, tugging him towards the small dance floor in the center of the _crimson_ room. "You owe me a father-daughter dance."

"That's an archaic tradition, instituted for the sole purpose of embarrassing your old man in front of a room full of people. And what about my gorgeous granddaughter? I can't just leave her sitting there, all alone, without me?"

Despite herself, his little girl turned back around to glance quickly over her shoulder at her miracle baby. "I think Emma can handle taking a nap on her own. As for you," she readdressed her father, making Robert glower in her direction menacingly, misleadingly. "Don't forget the fact that the archaic tradition of the father-daughter dance is also for the entertainment of all my guests. I'm sure they'd love to see what fancy moves you have hidden in your part telephone, part dancing shoes, Agent Scorpio."

Frowning, he rhetorically asked her, making Robin laugh, "you've been watching spy movies again, haven't you? How many times do I have to tell you that my job is nothing like James Bond's? The cars are never that fast and the women never that… good looking."

"And why do I get the impression that's not what you were originally going to say?"

Clearing his throat, the spy pulled them both out unto the dance floor, twirling his little girl around and into his already positioned arms. "I have no idea what you're alluding to, Love."

Although she laughed, Robin allowed the conversation to stop there, but, moments later, he felt her tugging him around, insisting upon leading. He struggled with her for several seconds but then gave him, refusing to fight, even if it was for control, with his little girl on her wedding day. "Even after all these years," he teased her, rolling his eyes. "I see you're still incapable of allowing a man, even one who is your father, to lead you."

"This has nothing to do with me being a control freak."

"At least you now admit it," Robert quipped, earning himself a slight jab in the ribs. But he was a big boy. He could take his daughter's pretend best shot without complaint.

"Focus, Scorpio," his little girl ordered, and he knew by the tone of voice she used there would be no arguing with her.

"I could say the same to you, Scorpio-Drake," he tossed back, "for I do believe those were my toes you just trampled on."

"Only to get your attention," Robin dismissed breezily, making him chuckle. "Now, without being obvious…"

"When am I ever obvious," he returned, interrupting her. "For goodness sake's, Love, I might be recovering from cancer, but I haven't lost all my job skills. I know how to be discrete."

"Well, then, maybe you could stop telling me about how you can be discrete, and, maybe, you could actually try being it for once. And without discussion or argument either," she added, the cheeky lass.

"Touché," the agent replied, grumbling under his breath.

"Anyway, look directly in front of you, and, tell me, what do you see?"

Robert did as he was instructed, always had and always would when it came to his daughter. Robin had him firmly wrapped around her little finger, just as her own baby girl did, and both of them, he feared, knew exactly that and took advantage of the fact. "I see a computer nerd mooning over your cousin Maxie."

"Spinelli," Robin questioned, immediately disregarding the response he never had a chance to actually say. "No, look to the left of him."

"Whose left," he asked. "Mine or the geek's?"

"Yours."

"Oh, well, then, I see your old buddy Morgan staring. Big surprise there," the WSB operative joked under his breath. "However, I do think it's a bit unsettling that he finds me so obviously attractive."

"He's not staring at you, Narcissus."

"Well, he bloody well better not be staring at you, because you're a married woman now, a mother, and, lucky for your dear ol' dad's ticker, that ship, for him, sailed long ago."

Without warning, Robin spun the two of them around 180 degrees. "Alright, now, again, tell me what you see."

"Oh, for the love of… Not this again," Robert complained.

"Dad, just do it."

Robin, Love, is this really necessary? I mean, I'm barely out of the hospital, and, now, you're mistreating me this way, making me dance with you in public, stepping on my toes, forcing me to…" His words trailed off as he finally took notice of what was in front of him. "Isn't that the woman whose son interrupted your wedding?"

"Yes," he heard his little girl answer him succinctly, clearly sounding quite pleased with herself. "That's Elizabeth Webber."

"Luke's daughter-in-law?"

"Ex-daughter-in-law," his own offspring corrected him, "and, if I were you, I wouldn't forget that amendment. There's a certain someone who might take dispute with you still referring to her as a Spencer."

"I take it the separation was rather acrimonious?"

"Let's just say that Lucky did some pretty terrible things to Elizabeth, and this person, this…"

"Knight in shining armor," Robert suggested helpfully.

"He's never been Lucky's biggest fan, and, after Elizabeth's latest brush up with him, he dislikes him even more."

"And just who, exactly might this jealous admirer be," the agent queried. Before his daughter had a chance to respond, he slouched in defeat, realization sweeping over him. "Oh, you've got to be kidding me. Morgan," he questioned, the name sounding off his tongue like a reviled curse. "What has that poor, pretty girl done to deserve not only Spencer's reprobate of a son but also your criminal of an ex?"

"Dad," Robin disputed his choice of words. "Jason's not that bad. Really, if you would just give him a chance…"

"I will do nothing of the sort," Robert squabbled. "That man is a killer, a gangster, not to mention the fact that he's seriously lacking in anything that could pass as a social skill."

Ignoring his complaints, his little girl offered, "he's in love with Elizabeth."

"Bully for him."

"And she's in love in with."

"Well," the spy allowed, "everyone has their flaws."

"And they have a son together."

"Oh, for the love of…" Putting the pieces of his daughter's confessions together, he took a step away from her embrace, holding up his hands in protest while doing so. "Absolutely not, Robin. Under normal circumstances, you know that I would do anything for you, but this… This…" Playing his only remaining card, he protested, "I'm still recovering from a very serious case of cancer. I almost died, you know."

She ignored him and his last remaining card, instead using her own to seal his fate. "Mom's already on the case. She's determined to reunite Jason with his family, no matter what it takes, and, in the process, she's going to go down as the agent who finally managed to rid Port Charles of the mob. But you're recovering from cancer, so, of course, everybody will completely understand why you wanted nothing to do with this and couldn't help her with…"

"Alright," he cut her off, grimacing at the very words that were about to leave his own mouth. "I do it; I'll help your mother, I'll help Anna help Morgan. But consider that your wedding present and every single damn subsequent anniversary, Christmas, and birthday present as well."

Walking away from his little girl, his little girl who had just managed to con him, he cracked his jaw in silent complaint. Now, he _really_ needed a drink.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Chapter Nine  
** CFFC#9: A lovely thing about Christmas is that it's compulsory, like a thunderstorm, and we all go through it together.  
 _**~ Garrison Keillor** _

"You're not leaving already, are you?"

Rats!

Grumbling under his breath, Cameron Webber scuffed the buffed and polished marble floor with his stupid, fancy dress shoes. Luckily, his mom didn't notice him, but it wouldn't have mattered anyway, for he was annoyed, and he really didn't care if she saw him pouting and throwing a fit. After all, they had come to the wedding, they had their cake and ate it, too, and, now, in his opinion, it was well past time to go home.

Not that he was tired, no sirree, Bob, not him. But his mommy didn't need to know that, and Doctor Robin didn't need to know that, because it was the fact that he was pretending to be tired that was going to get him and Jake home early for Santa Claus. They had cookies to put out, milk to pour, and carrots to clean for Rudolph. The last thing they needed to be doing was eating yucky adult food at a yucky adult party.

"You haven't even danced with Patrick yet," his mommy's friend argued. "You know how he loves to show off, and his night just wouldn't be complete if he couldn't say that he danced with every beautiful woman here."

"Really, Robin, the boys are tired…"

"We are, Mama," Cam agreed with her, hamming it up by rubbing his eyes with his right hand while pinching his little brother to do the same with his left. "Right, Jakey?"

And backing him up, the one and a half year old complained, "sweepy," while yawning at the same time.

The stupid baby, though, was probably actually tired. As soon as he had the thought, the toddler dismissed it. So what if Jake was tired? When they got home, their mom could put him to bed and then spend the rest of the night with him. She would read him all his favorite bedtime stories and snuggle with him in his bed. It would be awesome, but, first, he had to get rid of the stupid bride.

"Besides," his mother added, making Robin frown. "I'm not really in a dancing mood."

"Well, how about this," the other woman suggested. "I'll get Jason to dance with me…" As soon as his friend's name left the doctor's lips, Cam's little ears perked up. "And, then, afterwards, he and Patrick can switch partners." He watched as his mommy's friend winked in her direction. Rolling his eyes towards the ceiling, he wanted to laugh at the silly adults. Like he didn't know what Doctor Robin was saying. She wanted his mommy to dance with Jason… just like he did. Realizing this, the five year old decided maybe it wasn't such a bad idea if they stayed for just a little bit longer.

"That's not…," his mother protested, blushing and then turning away so that no one could see her face. Mumbling, something she always told him he wasn't supposed to do, she continued. "We really shouldn't. What if…"

"No one here's going to care," the bride said. "There are no cameras, my Uncle Mac, despite not being Jason's biggest fan, wouldn't say anything, and it's not there are any rival mobsters lurking about. You and Jason are safe here, Elizabeth."

Although he didn't know what the words 'rival mobsters' meant, Cam knew it couldn't be anything good, because it sounded too much like monsters. Not that he was afraid of monsters. Nope, not him. He was a big, strong boy, but his mom was, because she was girl, and Jake was, because he was a baby, so he was glad there weren't any one-eyed ogres there or any fire-breathing dragons.

Still fighting her friend, his mom argued, "but what about the boys?"

"Maxie set a crib up for Emma in another room, and there's a couch in there. The boys already have their coats on, so we'll just put them in there to lay down while you take a few spins around the dance floor. If they fall asleep, they'll be plenty warm even without a blanket, and, if not, they'll be fine in the room, because we have a monitor on Emma, and my Dad's listening in on it. And you know Robert Scorpio. He has the reflexes of a tiger."

He couldn't help it. Really, he should have, because showing any excitement at all made it seem like he wasn't actually tired, but Cameron Alexander Webber _loved_ tigers. "Can he pounce like a tiger, too?"

"You betcha," Robin teased him, reaching down to tickle his tummy. After she pulled away her hand and he stopped giggling, she picked up Jake and then led them both towards the side room she had mentioned. Looking back over her shoulder at his mom who was still standing there, watching them, she said, "now, go. Dance with Patrick. He's waiting for you."

Once they were in the room, the door partially left open to allow for some light, the doctor led both he and his little brother to the couch. It was small, but it was comfortable, so he laid down on it, looking as tired as he possibly could to convince her to leave them alone. The sooner she was gone, the sooner he could find something to play with, and, though he didn't think grownups like that stupid Maxie kept cool toys at work like his mommy, he knew he could find something to play with until his mom came back and took them home. And Jake, well, the little guy was on his own.

"Okay, now, you boys will be good, won't you," Robin asked them. His baby brother said nothing, his blue eyes already closing as he started to fall asleep, but Cam was quick to respond.

"Yep! We're always good, especially on Christmas Eve!"

"I bet you are," she agreed with him, ruffling his hair. Doctor Robin was a smart lady.

"If you or Jake need anything, just come out and get either me, or Patrick, or Spinelli, okay, but, if your mommy is dancing with Jason, leave her alone. Can you do that for me, Cameron?"

Holding up his fingers in the sign he knew to mean okay, the five year old yelled, "gotcha!"

"Ssshhh," his mommy's friend quickly quieted him down. "You don't want to wake Jake or the baby, do you?" He hated babies, so he shook his head no as hard as he could. "Good," Robin praised him, and, once again, Cameron smiled.

Standing back up, Robin moved towards the still partially opened door, only turning back around to talk to him right before she left. "And, Cam," she started, making him look back up towards her. "Thanks for coming to my wedding."

Shrugging his shoulders, he returned, "thanks for having chocolate cake."

She laughed. Adults always did that whenever he said something really important, and he didn't understand why. But it didn't matter. As soon as he couldn't hear her laughing any longer, the toddler got up off the couch and moved silently about the room, tiptoeing, because he knew exactly how quiet you had to be for a baby monitor not to hear you. His mommy had them all over the house, and he had gotten caught sneaking out of bed too many times when he was little, when he was still four, not to know how to get past them now.

He looked, and he looked, and he looked, but, still, he couldn't find any toys. Where were those silly thingies that doctors wore around their necks to listen to lots of hearts beats? And where were the cotton balls and the long wooden sticks that he made puppets out of? And where were the rubber gloves that could be blown up like balloons?

Stomping his foot in frustration, Cameron frowned. Stupid Maxie and her stupid job had nothing cool for him to play with.

However, on second thought, he realized, running over to the desk and climbing up onto the spinny chair, there was always the phone. Although he didn't know how to use it because it had a lot of buttons, he still liked pressing things. After all, you never knew what would happen when you pressed a new button.

So, he pressed some.

Before he knew it, some lady who sounded weird was talking to him, telling him to hang up and try again. So, he did. But she kept talking to him do that. Over and over and over again until, finally, he got someone else.

"Hello. Who is this? Why are you calling me?" There was a pause and then the lady whose voice sounded, to Cam, like it was coming right out of her nose, asked, "why are you calling me from _Crimson_?"

He wrinkled up his face in confusion. What the heck was _Crimson_?

"Listen, buddy, I know you're there. I can hear you breathing."

"Yeah, well, I can hear you talking, and you're not very nice," the five year old said in response. "Does your mommy know you're so mean?"

"Excuse me?"

Now, the voice didn't just sound mean; now it sounded angry, too. Ugh oh.

"Who the hell are you? I swear, Maxie, if this is your idea of a practical joke…"

"Aw, you said a bad word," Cam giggled. "You're going to get your mom washed out with soap."

"Where's Maxie. Get me Maxie!"

"Why would you want to talk to that stupid head? She's mean, and she yelled at my mommy, and she's always yelling at Spinelli."

"So, you do know my assistant, then?"

Despite the fact that the stranger couldn't see him, Cameron shrugged. "What's an assistant?"

"Look, you still haven't told me who you are."

Proudly, he stated, "I'm Cameron Alexander Webber, and I'm the man of the house."

"Yes, I'm sure you are," the squeaky lady told him. "Now, Cameron, can you tell me why you are at my office, using my phone?"

"I came to have chocolate cake."

The woman took a deep breath, and he giggled. She sounded just like those angry bulls he saw on the rodeo once on TV. "Is there a party going on there?"

"Yeah," he sighed, kicking his feet in the air since his little legs were too short to reach the floor. "Doctor Robin and Doctor Patrick got married today, and my mommy, Jake, and I came to watch. It was boring, but I got to see Jason. He's my friend."

"Lucky you," the lady snorted, and he really wanted to hang up on her. She was mean, and she was grouchy, and she didn't seem to like Jason. Why anyone wouldn't like him, Cam didn't know. After all, he was real cool. He played with him, pushed him on the swings, made his mom smile, and, best of all, he drove a motorcycle. "Listen, Cameron," the stranger started talking once more, making him pay attention again. "I need you to do me a favor. Can you do that?"

He really didn't want to, because he thought this lady was another stupid head just like Maxie, but he didn't want to make Santa mad on Christmas Eve, so he agreed. "Yeah, I guess so."

"I need you to hang up, and, when the phone rings in a few minutes, do not answer it, okay?"

"Whatever you say, lady," he told her, rolling his eyes. She didn't have to talk to him like he was a baby. He was five already, would be six soon in April, and, like he told her, he was the man of the house. Adults just didn't listen.

"And when Maxie comes in and answers it, I need you to promise that you won't tell her about our little talk, alright?"

"Sure." And, with that, he hung up the phone, right when the stranger was about to say something else. He knew it was wrong to be rude to someone, but that woman had it coming. She was mean to him, and he just knew his mommy wouldn't like her anyway, so he wasn't scared of getting into trouble.

Climbing back down off his chair, he went over to the couch and laid down, squeezing his eyes shut so tight that, if anyone were to come in, they would think he was asleep. While he waited, he started to count.

One, two, three…

He was only at the number eight when he remembered the baby monitor, and he sat up straight at the thought. What if Doctor Robin's dad, the tiger man had heard him? What if he told his mom that he was playing on the phone and that he had talked to a stranger? What if he liked stupid Maxie and would get mad because he called her a stupid head?

Before he could really start to worry, though, he heard someone come close to the door, so he laid back down just in time for it to be thrown open. Whoever had just come into the room was wearing a pair of those spiky shoes his mommy sometimes wore when she got dressed up all pretty. He could hear the clicky sound they made on the floor, and, despite wanting to peek to see who it was, he kept his eyes firmly shut, knowing he would soon hear the person's voice.

"Kate, Kate," the person said after answering the ringing phone. "What is it? What's wrong? Was there a problem with your dinner reservations this evening? Did Fredericko not send over the new sketches for you to look at, because he told me would, and Lulu said she would text me if you didn't receive them on time."

There was a slight pause, and then he heard stupid Maxie say, "why do you want me to put you on speaker phone?" But then she did what she was told anyway, and, while doing so, complained under her breath, "of course you would want me to write something down. It is Christmas Eve, a holiday, and my cousin's wedding day after all!"

And that's when Cameron heard the stranger's voice again, although maybe she was a little bit nicer than he first thought, because she was making sure he could hear what she had to say to the butthead who was mean to his mommy. "Maxie, I need you to write down your forwarding address for me, so, when I fire you which I am about to do, I can have all your things shipped to your apartment after the New Year."

"Fi… fire me? Kate, I don't understand. I thought I was doing a good job. I singlehandedly put out an entire issue of _Crimson_ all on my own while you were in the hospital after getting shot at your wedding to that mobster Sonny Corinthos. How could you do this to me?"

As she continued to talk, Maxie's voice got louder and louder, higher and higher until the point where Cam had to cover his ears, for she was hurting them.

Quietly yet so meanly even the five year old sat up a little straighter, despite trying to appear as though he were asleep, the squeaky lady said, "Stop talking. Now."

And stupid Maxie did.

"You're getting fired because you went behind my back and held a wedding reception at my magazine's headquarters without my permission to do such a thing. You're getting fired because you're deceitful and untrustworthy, and I cannot have someone like that working for me, and, this time, Miss Jones, Jax will not be able to save you or your job."

"How… how did you even find out?"

"Does that really matter," the stranger asked.

Sniffling, Maxie said, "I'd like to know," and Cam had to bite his lip from laughing at the fact that butthead Maxie was crying.

"I spoke to CAW, and…"

"Caw," the blonde interrupted. "Who's that? I don't know him. And what kind of name is that anyway? Is he some kind of Jungle Book freak, because, really, Kate, what kind of source could he really be if he was?"

"That's enough, Maxie," the squeaky lady told her. "And, just so you know, you will never work in the fashion industry again. This little stunt you pulled… Well, let's just say that you ruined your entire career. Oh, and give my regards to Patrick and Robin. Tell them congratulations for me, seeing as how they did use my offices for their reception. Goodnight, Maxie."

As soon as the stranger hung up, the lady who had been mean to his mommy all day ran out of the room, sobbing and yelling for Spinelli, and he started to giggle. He was still giggling when a man he didn't know appeared in the doorway. Stilling, Cameron watched him, fearful of his reaction, but all the man did was laugh, hold up a baby monitor, and tell him, "good job there, little man," before walking away.

He had seen the tiger, and the tiger liked him.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Chapter Ten  
** CFFC#10: A good conscience is a continual Christmas.  
 _**~ Benjamin Franklin** _

Robin Scorpio-Drake had a plan.

It was simple, really, and, when she was done, rather than the traditional two birds, four would be handled with the use of only one stone. The difficult part, though, was going to be getting all those birds to cooperate, especially since she didn't have any bread crumbs in her pockets to lead them with.

Damn wedding dresses.

They didn't have pockets, because, otherwise, she would have packed something to tempt her targets. Beer would have been a good place to start. Not only would it have eased some of the tension that would inevitably arise under the present situation, but it also could have been a bonding point. Three of the four marks drank it, and, the other, if plied with tequila first, would drink anything.

Another option would have been food. She knew that all of them, despite their worldly ways, had simple tastes. Steak and potatoes, tea and scones, hot chocolate and chocolate cake, _pears_. But she was fresh out of groceries, and, even if she knew how to cook, there wasn't time for such a thing.

The fact of the matter was that she had managed to delay Patrick for a couple hours, long enough to accomplish her mission, but not long enough to woo her little birdies into behaving. Instead, she would have to use sound reason and rely upon their better judgment to see the truth and validity of her argument. The only problem was that, as time ticked by, her plan had already hit a snag.

No one had shown up to the meeting place yet. While two of them were separately aware of what was about to go down in Penthouse II of Harbor View Towers, a third was completely oblivious on purpose, and the fourth, the actual resident of the apartment, was nowhere to be found in his own home. Spinelli had informed her that Jason had yet to arrive back from the wedding, only stopping long enough in the parking garage to exchange his SUV for his bike before taking off like only a man being chased by one too many demons could travel. That had been nearly 45 minutes ago, and Robin knew, because she knew Jason, that, if he didn't check his voicemail and listen to her desperate message, it could be morning or later, and she would be gone before he even thought of returning to town.

But she absolutely refused to let things fall apart now. After everything she had done, her four targets had already come so far, and she was determined to see her plot through to the very end. Yes, the desired results of all her hard work wouldn't be revealed to the rest of the world for months, perhaps even a year or more, but, for the people it would influence the most, the changes the plan would invoke would be almost instantaneously apparent, and, really, that was all that mattered.

She had already convinced both of her parents to help her on her little mission. For their own respective reasons, both her mother and her father were now invested in seeing Jason Morgan with the woman he loved and the children they both adored, and, if, in the process, they could all manage to bring a little peace and harmony to the lakeside hamlet of Port Charles, then so be it. Yes, there would be sacrifices made along the way, but, as a mother now herself, Robin knew it was time she saw the world as it truly was and accepted the fact that, sometimes, not everything turned out the way she wanted it to.

So far in life, she had been pretty lucky. While she had lost Stone, she had found love with him, a love that had been strong enough to sustain her until Jason entered her life. Her second relationship had taught her so many things. Unlike her first romance, loving Jason had shown her how one can love someone but not love everything about that person that made them who they are. Plus, by being with the then enforcer, she had learned how to take care of and love a child. Both Jason and Stone had led her to Patrick, and, likewise, Michael had led her to having Emma.

She was an HIV positive doctor married to the love of her life and mother to the most beautiful, intelligent, sweet little girl ever created out of her parents' genuine and heartfelt affection for one another. She had friends, a family, a career, and, now, with the assistance of others, she hoped to give those very same things to four people who meant so very much to her. And, while, yes, Sonny would always hold a special place in her heart, Robin wasn't completely unaware of the fact that he was, in his very core, a bad, selfish man, a sick man who because of or in spite of his mental illness had robbed so many of those around him of the very happiness he sought so selfishly.

Did it make her a hypocrite to be the one who decided he didn't deserve that joy and Jason did? Probably. But she was willing to pay that price, willing to step back and let the course of events she had put in motion occur around her, consequences be damned. It wasn't the first time she had acted so egoistically, so blindly towards others. As a woman, as a mother true onto herself, all she could do was what she believed to be right. She had done that when she told AJ that he and not Jason was Michael's biological father, she had done that when she had informed Nikolas of the very same thing concerning baby Spencer, and, now, she was about to do what she felt was necessary once more, this time reuniting a family not by outing a paternity but by ensuring the life of a father to his uninformed and innocent children.

That was if those involved _ever_ actually arrived. Once again, she paced the length of the penthouse's living room. Back and forth, her movements were precise, studied, practically a measurement of time in and of themselves. And her dress swung with her, just like a pendulum ticking away the seconds until she altered fate or fate interrupted her alterations.

Yes, Robin Scorpio-Drake had a plan. She just hoped that those it entailed did not let her down by not showing up.

Robert Scorpio had a plan.

It was simple, really. Use one bad guy to take out all the rest and, then, come out of the entire mess smelling better than a rose. The tactic wasn't a new one. Hell, he himself had employed it at least a few times in the past. However, never before had it been used for such a grand, massive project, and, when everything was said and done, he was going to go down as one of the most ambitious, creative, damn-fine spies the WSB had ever employed.

Oh, yeah, and Morgan would get his happily-ever-after, too. Bully for him.

If the mob boss would have been a man half deserving of his family, he would have figured out a way to be with them himself, not relying upon others to solve his problems for him. But, obviously, he wasn't. In fact, if he would have been any kind of man at all, he wouldn't have gotten himself and the woman he loved and her kids, their kids, into such a whopping big mess in the first place. What kind of fool jumped feet first into Sonny Corinthos' pocket without looking at the quality of the fabric beforehand, he didn't know. Sure, the don's suits were expensive and luxurious, but they were just the fancy window dressings that disguised a ripe den of iniquity and crime underneath. Yes, the kid had just finished ramming his head into a tree, but, really, was that any excuse at all?

Taking the steps two at a time, Robert continued to climb his way high atop Harbor View Towers. The elevator wasn't broken, and he certainly didn't need the exercise for he was in tip-top shape as always, but he had decided to take the stairs instead of the lift simply to help him order and arrange his ideas. Nothing got the old mind ticking faster and better than a little physical exertion. That's why he and Anna had worked so well together back in the day… However, that was a topic for another climb, a much longer one, for, unbelievably, his marriage to the lovely Miss Devane was even more frustrating than his soon-to-be partnership with Jason Morgan.

… Not that the blonde knew what he was about to be involved in.

No, the agent figured it would be better to hit the mob boss out of the blue, to take him by surprise, and then to twist the family knife deep into his heart, black though it may be, in order to get him to cave to his ideas. It wouldn't be easy. Morgan was a stubborn son of a bitch, but so was he, and he had a few more years of experience under his belt available for use if necessary.

But Robert didn't think that his target would put up much of a fight. Despite himself, he had, in fact, witnessed with his own eyes, and he did have perfect vision, thank you very much, just how gone Jason was for the gorgeous Miss Webber, and, once he had purposely ignored all the lies the entire world had been force fed about the nurse's youngest child, he had clearly been able to see for himself that Jacob Martin's father could be no one but Port Charles' very own favorite antihero mobster. Not to mention the fact that Morgan clearly adored his girlfriend's oldest child, the precocious _CAW_ , and it was beyond evident, to the respected spy, that, finally, there was something more important in Jason Morgan's life than his dated allegiance to a man unworthy of his loyalty and devotion.

Yes, the underworld's favorite couple, the much-storied dynamic duo of Corinthos and his lethal lackey, was about to fall, and, when it did, he, Robert Scorpio, WSB agent, father, and now grandfather as well, would be right there to take all the delicious credit.

That was, as long as he kept his favorite ex-wife's bloody hands off of his case, but he had a plan, and Anna, the mother of his child, his greatest love, the bane of his existence, wouldn't know what hit her when he revealed it.

Anna Devane, once Anna Scorpio, had a plan.

It was simple, really. She was going to use her enemies' weaknesses, their flaws, in order to bring them down, and the first person on her list was the ever over-confident, silky-smooth, misogynistic Sonny Corinthos.

In her mind, he was the key to bringing down the mob in Port Charles, and, with Jason Morgan's help, once the enemy kingpin was removed, the two of them would keep the streets and the waterways as clean of crime as possible. Though it would take some time and some very ingenious maneuvering on her part, she was more than up for the challenge. After all, this wasn't just a job for her this time; this was personal. This was for her daughter, her son-in-law, and, most importantly, her granddaughter, because Robin, Patrick, and Emma deserved to live in a town free of mob shootouts and explosive terrorist situations, and taking down Sonny Corinthos would make that possible.

The Russians would be easy enough. With their international connections, she wouldn't have to employ undercover tactics to bring them down. She'd simply infiltrate their business, dismantle it piece by piece, and then send them all packing in either a body bag or starchy prison blues. Afterwards, she'd move onto her real mark, playing Sonny Corinthos and his Achilles' heel for beautiful women until he practically handed her all the information she would need to take the entire Zacchara organization and everyone connected to it down on a silver platter.

Sure, things would be messy. After all, her own daughter had sentimental if not misplaced feelings for the Cuban, but Anna was convinced that when everything was said and done, Robin would see that her way was the best, and she wouldn't begrudge her mother of either her success or her methods of achieving it. Then there was also the fact that, despite all the missteps and misunderstandings between them, Jason Morgan still felt a connection to his former boss and partner. Luckily, though, it was beyond apparent that his own family was now more important to him than the former one he had sought so diligently to protect for his onetime employer, and that was all the motivation she needed in order to gain the Port Charles' mob boss as an ally.

Once the rival organizations were dismantled, with her help and the WSB's support, she would keep Morgan has the figurehead in charge of the power so many others had fought and died for in the upstate New York town. However, despite all appearances, he would be clean, legit, and a secret operative under her control, and, in return, she would keep his family safe and protected. While Jason would still be able to ride about town like the rogue sheriff he seemed to see himself as, an avenging angel on the wrong side of the law, he would now be doing so with the World Security Bureau's blessing.

Oh, yes. Anna Devane, formerly known as Anna Scorpio, most certainly had a plan, and it was a damn fine one if she did say so herself.

And as the elevator doors opened to the top floor of Harbor View Towers, she stepped out of the lift like an empress, absolutely sure and completely confident of both herself and the job that remained in front of her. Head held high, she turned to approach Morgan's door only to pause when she saw the door to the stairwell open instead, and the head that poked itself out first before the body followed was the very last face she wanted to see, a face that made all her wonderful, perfect, glory-inducing plans come crashing down around her.

At the very same time that she spoke, so did her ex-husband. "What the hell are you doing here," they asked each other, both obviously annoyed and put off by the other's unfortunate, untimely appearance.

As a third voice joined their conversation, both she and her counterpart turned to face the intruder. "Shouldn't that be my question," Jason Morgan wanted to know, jiggling his keys as he walked towards and then ended up leading them towards his front door.

However, before he could unlock it, the entrance swung open, revealing her daughter standing there in all her wedding finery. Hands cocked on her hips, mouth seemingly permanently positioned into a less than pleased expression, Robin chastised them all. "Well, finally. It's about damn time the three of you decided to show up. What took you all so long?"

But no one seemed inclined to answer her. Instead, as if they all three were a part of a bloody choir, the oddly assembled yet united group demanded of the brunette doctor, "what the hell are you doing here?"

Robin laughed at the question. Jason seemed to grimace. Really, was that the only thing the man was capable of, Anna silently asked herself, frowning in his ever-looming presence. She swallowed her displeasure, intent upon keeping her cool, and that horrible, wretched, no-good ex-husband of hers merely pushed his way into the mob boss' penthouse, heading immediately for the sidebar where the liquor was kept, the stupid lush.

Following him and realizing she needed a drink of her own, the super spy waited until the tumbler of scotch was in her hand before she lifted her glass and proposed a toast with the smirking Robert Scorpio standing beside her. "Oh, what tangled webs we weave," she started only to have him join in with her to finish the age old adage, "when first we practice to deceive."

"Sir Walter Scott," a fifth voice joined their group, smiling dopily as he bounded down the stairs. " _Marmion_ ," Spinelli finished, obviously quiet pleased with himself and his knowledge.

Gulping her entire finger of burning liquor, Anna winced before coughing out, "let the insanity begin."

At least, with the computer hacker always around, one of them – Jason - would be used to the madness.

Her plan was now null and void, Robert, the interfering louse was now involved, and she was going to kill her daughter. A very Merry Christmas it would be indeed.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Chapter Eleven  
** CFFC#11: "Are you willing to believe that love is the stronger thing in the world – stronger than hate, stronger than evil, stronger than death – and that the blessed life which began in Bethlehem nineteen hundred years ago is the image and brightness of Eternal Love? Then you can keep Christmas."  
 _**~ Henry Van Dyke** _

Twelve hours ago he had been alone, struggling to find something to hold onto yet resolved in his solitude, but, now, twelve hours later, he had not one, not two, but three nutcases who were all quite confident that _they_ had the solution to all his problems.

It was all rather baffling, not to mention annoying as hell.

It would be one thing if they just spoke their peace and got out. He was used enough to that. Everyone seemed to drop by these days with advice for him, apparently more capable of living his life and doing his job than he was, and, if he didn't kick those others out, then he couldn't begrudge the Scorpios their turn to speak either. However, all the family seemed capable of doing was bickering with each other, arguing over who called him first and who had the better plan. And, yet, despite these seemingly wonderful plans, no one had cared to share a damn thing with him yet.

The worst part was that Spinelli was just eating up their antics. Absolutely silent and, of course, no help to him, he remained in awe of the quarrelling threesome, bobbing his head up and down as if he could actually understand their racket and agreed with it. And this from the kid who swore up and down that he would always be there for Jason.

Despite his lack of patience for the loud, squabbling group, the mob boss was determined to hear them out. He wasn't sure if it was simply out of respect to Robin, his newfound determination to find a way to be with his family no matter what, or just the holiday spirit sneaking up on him. Whatever the reason, he had decided to give them all a chance to say their peace. However, first, he needed them to be quiet long enough to actually hear his concession.

Pinching the bridge of his nose and refusing to even glance at the two spies and one doctor crowded his living room, Jason raised his voice, lifted a finger, and pointed in their various directions while issuing his demands.

"You," he told Robin, his voice slightly less gruff than he knew it would be when he addressed her trying parents. "Sit down."

"But I was just…"

He cut off her complaint, her excuse, using the only weapon he had in his arsenal to get his long ago girlfriend to comply. "You just gave birth less than two months ago, you've been on your feet all day, and I know you're wearing some ridiculous pair of heels underneath your dress, so, please, just sit down."

"You know, Morgan," Robert spoke up, sounding irked. "I don't like hearing the words 'underneath your dress' in reference to my little girl coming out of your filthy mouth."

He simply ignored him. Moving his finger towards the still talking Anna as she continued to complain under her breath the entire time, criticizing and protesting against her ex-husband's presence there, he stated, "you, shut up."

Before she had a chance to retort, he progressed to the only male in their little family. "And, you," he loudly ordered, snatching the bottle of liquor from the agent's hands. "Stop drinking my booze."

"What, didn't your mother teach you how to share," the older man quipped, sitting despite his dissenting words. "Besides, that was a full, unopened bottle of scotch before I got here. Obviously, your tastes aren't refined enough for such a drink."

"Yes, Stone Cold does prefer his alcoholic beverages to be either flavored by hops or, on rare, special occasions, worms."

"A tequila man," Robert asked, only to have his daughter pipe in before Jason could shut down their latest deviation from the point of their unwanted visit.

"Well, isn't that a coincidence," the new mother practically cooed. "I know someone else who drinks tequila."

"Yes, daughter," Anna rolled her eyes, "because there are only two gluttons for punishment in this world. Really."

"Alright, that's enough," the mob boss barked, silencing the chatty group. "Listen, typically, I'd just kick you all out for getting on my nerves, but, for Robin, I'm going to give you all five minutes to state your case. And then you can leave."

"Listen, Big Daddy," Robert warned, standing up and approaching Jason. "There's no reason to get testy. We're not here for us; we're here, foolishly, to help you. You want a life for your family that's free of the violence the mob entails, but, at the same time, I think we're all well aware of the fact that you're incapable of living on the straight and narrow. Your little disastrous foray into life as a mechanic was proof enough of that."

"Papa Spy just called you Big Daddy," Spinelli giggled from behind him, making Jason groan underneath his breath.

"Kid," said agent complained. "You make me sound like a damn Smurf. Look at me. I might be a lot of things, but blue is sure as hell not one of them."

"Well, there was that one time," Anna piped in, looking decidedly pleased with herself. "You know, when I was practicing that new move on you and accidentally cut off all your air supply. You turned blue then."

"Please, Love," Robert protested, shooting a sideways glance first to Jason, then to Spinelli, and, finally, to Robin. "Not in front of the children."

"But, no, digressing back to our former topic of discussion, did you just inform The Jackal of the fact that his beloved and trusted mentor once toiled in the grease and grime of the automobile repair industry?"

"It was motorcycles, Spinelli," Robin clarified, "but, yeah, years ago there was a time when Jason left… the business."

"Wow," the computer hacker smiled dreamily. "Just when I thought I knew everything about my master, I learn something new."

"For a computer genius," Robert mocked him, "you sure a dumb shit, aren't you? I mean, you live with this lug head, but you've never researched him. Isn't that… you know… your _thing_ around here, information gathering and all that other technical mumbo-jumbo?"

"I could never impose upon Stone Cold's personal life that way, by digging into his past."

He had been quiet for minutes, allowing those around him to discuss him as if he wasn't even in the room, but, after that little gem offered by his roommate, Jason could remain silent no longer. "Oh, so it was respecting my privacy when you hacked into the hospital's mainframe and went through certain confidential patient files?"

"A mere lapse in judgment on The Assassin of Cyberspace's behalf," the hacker excused.

"Jason," Anna spoke up. If he didn't know better, he would have translated the smirk on her face to be a genuine smile. "There's no need for you to resort to secrecy and code when it comes to discussing Elizabeth and her children. We're all well aware of the fact that you're in love with her and that you are the biological father to her youngest son Jake. In fact, while I can't speak for Robert…"

"That would be a first," her ex-husband interrupted her only to earn a swift kick to the shins.

Finishing her former thought, the female spy pressed on, "but, at least for me, I can tell you that they are the reason I decided to help you, to take your case."

"And don't forget about all that glory you'll receive once you take down the Port Charles mob, Love. There's no sense in being modest now after all these years together. I know you better than that."

"Oh, just stuff a sock in it, Robert!"

"Why I believe," he teased her back, complete with a wicked wink, "that you already did that once, and it wasn't an all together unpleasant experience either."

"Okay, that was just disgusting," Robin informed her parents, shaking her head as if to eradicate the vision her father's words had inspired in her mind. Never before had Jason been so thankful that he could not imagine things. "Anyway, you said five minutes each, right," the doctor got them all back on track, and he was ever so thankful. "Is it alright if I go first?"

With a slight nod of his head, he granted his ex the permission to speak first that she so desired. "Well, obviously, I don't have a plan for the specific aspects of this operation. I know nothing about the spy… industry… and even less about the mob, despite being with Jason for years. However, what I do know is that no one would believe both of my parents just simply gave up their careers to come and be part-time babysitters for their new granddaughter."

"Sweetheart," Anna spoke up. "I don't understand what you're trying to get at."

"What I'm saying is that you and Dad are going to need a better reason than Emma to be in Port Charles. Whatever you end up doing to help Jason, I think we're all aware will take some time, so there needs to be a plausible excuse to explain why the two of you are back, seemingly permanently."

"She's right, Love," Robert complimented his daughter while addressing his former wife. "And she gets that common sense from her old man."

"Yeah, you wish, Scorpio," the female spy returned with a rather unladylike snort.

"Anyway," their daughter brought the conversation back around to her. "I was thinking that we'd tell everyone that the two of you wanted to give your marriage another try."

For the first time since he had arrived home, there was complete silence. It was a blessed sound. Seconds ticked by, but, still, no one said anything until, finally, Robin seemed to get a little nervous at her parents' reaction or lack thereof and prodded them into responding. "Okay, you two, someone needs to say something."

"I think we need some clarification," Anna said, sounding too calm in Jason's opinion.

"We'll spread the word that, while Dad was recovering from cancer, you two… re-bonded with each other, and, now that you're getting… shall we say, wiser, you realized that life is too short to spend it bickering with each other over trivial matters. We'll tell everyone that you're determined to try your relationship again, so you took some time off to come back to Port Charles, back to where you first fell in love, and you'll make it appear as if you're engaged and planning another wedding."

"I refuse to live with this woman," Robert insisted, standing up and backing away from his daughter. "Have you ever seen how many pairs of shoes she has? It's ridiculous, and I'd always be tripping over them when I snuck back into the house at night. No, absolutely not. I refuse. Robin, Love, I'm putting my foot down."

"I never said you'd have to live together."

"Well, that's a relief," the super spy admitted, collapsing back down onto the couch. "Anna," he glanced at his onetime partner in both business and pleasure. "What do you think about your daughter's idea?"

"I'll do it," she relented begrudgingly, "but you're paying for everything."

"Why should things change now," her ex grumbled.

"Alright, fine, that's settled," Jason interjected, stopping what was sure to become yet another Scorpio argument if he allowed the present topic of conversation to get out of hand. "Robin's had her five minutes, you two have agreed to pretend to be engaged as far as the rest of the world is concerned, so, now, Miss Devane, it's your turn to speak."

"What is this, Morgan," Robert complained. "I didn't peg you as the sexist one, letting all the women go…"

Suddenly, interrupting the older man, there was an insistent, mind-numbing, absolutely intolerable knocking at the door. Without even glancing out the peep hole, Jason knew the racket could only be caused by one of two people, neither of whom he presently wanted to see and neither of whom could be privy to what was currently going down in his living room: Maxie or Carly.

"Spinelli," the screeching started, alerting all five penthouse occupants to exactly who their disruption was. "I know you're in there. Answer this damn door."

When his roommate moved to do just that, the mob boss shook his head no, and, surprisingly, without a single argument, Spinelli simply sat back down and said not a word.

"Please, Spinelli, I need you. Kate fired me, and you're the only one who can get me my job back. I don't know what happened, but I need _Crimson_ , and you can bet your sorry ass that _Crimson_ needs me, too."

When, still, no one made a move to answer the door, that's when the true whining really started. "!"

"I don't care what you have to do, just get rid of her," he ordered his friend and employee, and, dutifully, the hacker stood to do just that.

"Fair… Um, Second Blonde One," Spinelli addressed his friend. "I'm afraid The Jackal can do not a thing to re-procure you of your job. You broke the rules, and you got caught."

"But…"

"And, for that matter, I'm not sure that I would want to help you," Spinelli spoke the words slowly, as if they were not only painful for him to think but also painful for him to say. "You… you were quite harsh with The Jackal for spilling orange soda on your dress, even after he ran out and purchased for you the yards upon yards of ribbon you desired to wrap around the midsection of your elegant gown in order to disguise the stain. I apologized profusely, but, still, you did not relent upon your chastisement of someone you profess to be your best friend.

"Worse than that, you were downright rude and appalling in your behavior towards The Maternal One, and, while I understand that you and The Fair Elizabeth have a rather contemptuous relationship, based upon slights and misunderstandings from before The Jackal was a part of your life, that did not give you the right to continually insult and embarrass her, not only in front of her friends but also in front of her impressionable, young children. You claim that you desire to be a better person, but the woman I saw today was cruel, manipulative, and not someone I care to associate with. I am disappointed in you, Bad Blonde One, as I am sure The Faithful and Wise Georgie is as well."

Out of respect, Jason allowed his friend a few moments to sit back down and to calm himself. Once he was sure that Spinelli was ready to continue, he softly addressed his ex's mother, his own quiet tone of voice expressing to the others in the room that they needed to be hushed just in case Maxie was still outside the penthouse door eavesdropping, something he certainly would not put past her doing. "Miss Devane," he prompted.

Taking his own seat on the stairs, Jason settled in to listen to not only Anna's plan but also Robert's as well. Unfortunately, it was already late, but he had a feeling that, at least for him, the night was still young. Christmas Eve that year seemed never ending, even more so than usual.


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Chapter Twelve  
** CFFC#12: Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house  
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.  
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,  
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.  
 _**~ Twas the Night Before Christmas by Clement Clarke Moore** _

She was pretty sure that she had finally gotten Cameron to sleep.

Despite what he thought, her little boy had not been able to fool her. She knew exactly how tired he was at Robin's wedding, and that had been not at all. While Jake went down to bed easily, seemingly whenever she wanted him to, every night, Cameron fought her. Every single night. And it was only worse on the nights when he was excited about the next day. The day before Easter, the day before his birthday, the day before Halloween, and especially the day before Christmas were always major battles between her and her oldest son. It was something that he got from her, though, so she really couldn't fault him for his persistent nature.

She had been thankful for his ruse at the reception. However happy she was for her two friends and coworkers, Elizabeth couldn't help but feel bittersweet towards their nuptials. When Jason had proposed to her the April before, during those few, brief, precious moments when they were actually engaged, she had allowed herself to imagine what marrying the man she loved would be like. The weddings never varied in size or formality. They were always simple, intimate affairs, just she and Jason, the boys, and a few of their closest friends and family members.

She had pictured a summer wedding where the boys could play outside afterwards and she and Jason could go to Italy for their honeymoon just in time to see the Palio. She had imagined a fall wedding, something close to her birthday in order to make both the date she dreaded each year and Emily's senseless death a little less painful to remember. She had imagined a spring wedding, something fresh and elegant, something that would have represented the clean, new start they were making together as husband and wife. But her favorite fantasy had been a winter wedding.

The idea had been appealing to her for the sheer fact that, looking back, her favorite time spent with Jason had been the Christmas they had shared in her studio together all those years before. And she even pictured his face when he saw the church decorated in Charlie Brown Christmas trees and paper chains. Her entire dream wedding had been a celebration of their past and a promise to their future, something only the two of them would have been able to fully appreciate or understand.

But that hope, that dream, was gone now, and, instead, she had attended another winter wedding, one that was bigger, and more lavish, and less personal than the one she had wanted for herself and Jason, but, nonetheless, it had still made her feel slightly jealous and, in turn, that jealousy made her feel as though she wasn't a good friend.

So, she had been happy to leave the reception early, thankful for Cam's convenient excuse, but, when Robin had dangled a dance with Jason before her fingertips, there was absolutely no way she had the willpower to refuse such bait. And, while she had known it was dangerous, and reckless, and irresponsible, being in his arms again, even if it was for only a few minutes before a roomful of people, it had felt too right to deny or to condemn as being wrong.

However, the dance had ended, in her heart, mere seconds after it had begun, and she had the boys had retired to their home, alone and without Jason. Luckily, though, the kids had served as a good distraction for her melancholy mood. Just as they had planned together, they put out cookies and milk for Santa and carrots for the reindeer. She had given them their baths and helped them into their pajamas before reading to them _The Night Before Christmas_. Jake had fallen asleep during the first story, so she had put him down in his crib, but Cameron, her every bubbly, never tired five year old, had proclaimed himself a big boy and hardly sleepy at all. So, she had proceeded to read him a second bedtime story, and then a third, and, then, finally, even a fourth, never once objecting, simply savoring the fact that he still wanted her to spend so much time with him. Both the boys were growing up so fast already, and the last thing she wanted to do was rush their childhood in anyway shape or form.

But, now, she believed Cameron to be asleep. At least, his eyes were closed, and he looked as though he was, in fact, down for the night, and she was faced with finishing her Christmas Eve chores alone. She had presents to wrap, stockings to stuff, and cookies and carrots to gobble down all in the effort to convince her two young boys that Santa Claus really did exist. The chores that lay before her that late evening were things that a mother should do with her children's father, things that a woman should do with her husband, the man she loved, but, for Elizabeth Webber, such a thing was not an option. And she would eventually accept that fact… just not this year.

Walking towards the kitchen, intent upon fixing herself a pot of coffee, for she would need the caffeine to stay awake, she was slightly startled when she heard a knock on her front door. After all, it was nearly midnight, she wasn't expecting anyone, and it was a holiday, so, really, there was no logical reason for someone to be there. Without meaning for it to happen, her heart instantly leapt in her chest, beating at a nervous, hopeful pace. She knew better than to think that it was him, knew that he wouldn't risk either her safety or her boys' to come see her on Christmas Eve, but that didn't stop Elizabeth from wishing for his presence anyway.

Turning around, she was left feeling disappointed once again. Despite knowing without a shadow of a doubt that it wasn't Jason knocking on her front door, seeing the fact with her own two eyes made her crumble inside just a little bit more, made her posture slip just a fraction of a degree lower.

Approaching the entrance to her home, she opened it for the delivery man, smiling at him with what could only be interpreted as an empty, hollow effort. "Are you Elizabeth Webber," the young man asked her. He was shivering, obviously freezing from the classic storybook winter weather they were experiencing that year, and she found herself reaching up to rub her own sweater covered arms in response to both his chill and the sudden swift breeze that assaulted her from the open front door.

"I am," she responded, immediately reaching on instinct for the envelope he had for her. "Isn't it a little late, though, to still be making deliveries?"

"It's my last run of the night," the kid, probably a college student, informed her. "Someone has to get all the last minute presents delivered."

Chuckling instinctively at his friendly comment, the single mother returned, "and here I thought that was Santa's job."

The currier just shrugged his shoulders before jogging down her front steps and towards his awaiting, still running vehicle. "Merry Christmas, Miss Webber," he offered his salutations, but, before she could say the same, he was pulling out of her driveway and she was realizing that she was still standing in the drafty opening.

Robotically, she moved towards her couch, sitting down once the front door was both shut and locked once again. Although she knew she really should be starting on her long list of chores that needed to be complete before the kids woke up bright and early the next morning, she couldn't resist opening up the letter. While it obviously wasn't a festively packaged bauble, it was still addressed to her, and Elizabeth Webber had never been able to deny her curiosity. Ripping open the manila envelope quickly, the torn scraps falling unnoticed to the floor, she hastily removed the handwritten letter contained within, regretfully wrinkling it in the process.

As soon as she saw the writing – concise, blocky, and oh so very masculine, she knew exactly who the note was from without even needing the signature to confirm her suspicions. After so many years, Jason Morgan was still the most original gift giver she had ever known. It wasn't a baseball bat, and it wasn't a postcard from Italy, but it was exactly what she needed to remind her that he loved and missed her just as much as she loved and missed him.

Needing the reassurance that the letter was real and not a figment of her imagination, she started reading it out loud to herself, settling comfortably back into the cushions of the couch, so she could relish each and every word of the holiday missive. "Elizabeth," it was addressed – simple, straightforward, and to the point, but, when she imagined him saying her name in that way that only he could, she knew there was no other greeting she would ever want to hear from him.

"There's so much I need to tell you that it's hard for me to even begin, so, if this sounds rushed or even harsh, just know that's not how I wanted it to come across. First, I guess you need to know that I'm not going to take the FBI's deal. Like I told you earlier, there are just too many holes, too many ways that you and the boys could still be hurt even with the government's help. With Sonny and the Zaccharas gone, there would still be the Russians to contend with, and there would always be a new enemy just waiting to attack me.

"But I am taking a deal; it's just with someone else, though. After the wedding tonight, I was paid a visit by the Scorpios, three of them, in fact – Robert, Anna, and Robin, and, after hearing them out, I've decided to work with them. As of 10:30 tonight, I became a secret operative for the WSB. Spinelli knows, obviously Robin knows, and, now, you know as well, but no one else can ever find out.

"While Robert is going to focus on cleaning out the Russians, Anna's going to slowly infiltrate Sonny's life. She's going to befriend him, get him to confide in her, and, eventually, use their connection to bring him down from the inside. Once everyone's out of the picture and I'm the only one left standing, we're going to make it seem as though I still control all the power here in Port Charles, except I'll secretly be completely legit and protected by the WSB. More importantly, you and the boys will secretly be protected by the WSB.

"For now, we still can't see each other. Until the present danger is taken care of, I just can't take that risk, but, at the same time, I know that I won't be able to stay away from you either. So, Spinelli thought of some ways that we can keep in contact with each other… that is, if you still want to be with me. If you don't, if you're afraid this plan won't work, I'll completely understand. You have to do what you believe to be right for you and our boys, and I'll respect any decision you make, but, if you do still want to be with me, if you do still want to marry me, then Spinelli will be coming over sometime this week to set up a webcam for you and to bring you an untraceable phone. We'll be able to talk both online and over the phone without anyone ever knowing. It's not perfect, far from it, but it's something. It's a start."

She paused then to wipe away the few tears that had managed to escape her dreamy, once again hopeful eyes and smiled to herself. "It's perfect enough," Elizabeth responded to Jason's words, recalling a similar exchange they had shared more than a year before at the Metro Court. Taking a deep breath, she refocused her attention upon the letter, intent upon finishing the entire thing before she started reading it over and over again in order to memorize her favorite parts.

"Anyway, Robert and Anna seem optimistic. They gave me an outline of six to nine months for them to have both the Russians and Sonny and the Zaccharas completely out of Port Charles, so, if they're right, by next year at this time, if you still want to be my wife, I want to marry you. We'll finally be able to be a family, and, maybe, you and the boys will be able to live a halfway normal life.

"For now, though, Merry Christmas, Elizabeth. Please, tell both Cameron and Jake that I'm thinking of them, that I miss them, and that I love them, even if you only want to tell them when they're still asleep so they don't get confused. I hope the three of you get everything that you want this year… even if I can't be the one to give it to you.

"Talk to you soon. Love, Jason."

"P.S. For what's about to happen, I'm so sorry."

Up until the very last line, Jason's note to her had been flawless, and, with it, despite what he thought, he had managed to, at least, give her everything that she wanted that Christmas. However, his closing remark left her puzzled, left her confused, and, as her face scrunched up in both thought and inquisitiveness, she found herself oddly enough surprised. If there was one thing the man she loved was not it was cryptic. Jason pretty much always said what he meant unless he simply couldn't tell her something at all.

However, before she truly had a chance to contemplate his words, there was a second late night knock on her front door. Slowly, she lifted herself from her sitting position and moved towards the locked entrance. Flipping the deadbolt, she twisted the handle at the same time and pulled the door open to reveal a shivering yet still grinning Robert Scorpio.

"Hello, there, Love," he greeted her, even going so far as to kiss her warmly, almost like a father would, on the cheek before purposely yet not impolitely pushing himself into her home. Making himself comfortable, he started to remove his scarf, coat, and gloves, watching her mystified motions out of the corner of his eye the entire time as she, once again, closed the door.

Waiting for an explanation, Elizabeth simply remained silent while her midnight guest busied himself. Once the agent was satisfied, his winter wear tossed over the back of one of her dining room table's chairs, he turned back to face her completely and clapped his hands together once before rubbing them together expectantly.

"So, I hear you have a spare room available that you could rent out to me."

She laughed, and then that laughter turned into a full-fledged, belly ache inducing fit of the giggles. Suddenly, Jason's enigmatic message made sense. Until he could be with her, until he could personally keep her and the boys safe, he had sent them for Christmas the next best thing: her own personal, legendary, one of a kind super spy.

Tiptoeing back to bed, Cameron Webber almost tripped on the runner that covered the upstairs hallway floor. His silly mommy had actually thought he had been asleep when he had really been faking the whole entire time. He had waited for her to go back downstairs before he had crawled out of bed and hid himself at the top of the steps. A little boy in his daycare class had told him that there was no such thing as Santa Claus, and he had been determined to find out the truth for himself.

He had watched as his mother received her letter, he had listened to her read it out loud, and, then, best of all, he had seen her let Doctor Robin's dad into their house.

Although his mom didn't know it, he had secretly asked Santa for a pet kitty for Christmas. Instead, though, Santa had sent him something much, much better, so there was no reason for him to stay up any later. His mommy was happy again, Santa was real, and he couldn't wait to tell that stupidhead at daycare that he was wrong.

And he knew this because, rather than a pet kitty, the tiger was moving in.


End file.
